Tinystar's Beginning: Rising Storm
by Twilidramon
Summary: Bluefur has been exiled, and Tinyclaw sits as deputy of ThunderClan in her place - but he does not sit easy. Bluefur is still lurking, and Tinyclaw knows it's only a matter of time before she strikes again. Meanwhile Tigerstar is lost in devastation, and the forest grows hotter and hotter with no sign of relief. A storm is coming, but will it wash away the pain? Rated T. *COMPLETE*
1. Allegiances

**Welcome, everyone, to the fourth installment of the _Tinystar's Beginning_ series! Honestly didn't think I'd make it this far. By now, you all know the drill - but for those that don't: This is part of an AU series, exploring what might happen when certain characters are switched around. For instance, this story stars Tinyclaw instead of Firestar - in the original series, Tinyclaw was Scourge. There are other switches and changes from the canon, too, and there will be more!**

 **Before this begins, I'd like to make a small announcement for _Blood of the Tiger_ fans - unfortunately, due to some fuck-up on my part that I can't seem to explain, the file for BoT's story has been deleted. I've tried everything under the sun to get it back, but it's just gone to the ether, apparently. There was nothing on there but the next chapter and ALL my notes for up until the end of _Storm Front._ It's not a totally bad situation, but it will take some time to redo all of that stuff so please, bear with me. I'm going to be redoing my outline for the story before I start writing it again, which means there will be some delay for the next update. I'll try not to make it too long.**

 **In the meantime, enjoy!**

* * *

 **ALLEGIANCES:**

* * *

 **THUNDERCLAN:**

Leader: Tigerstar – big dark brown tabby tom with unusually long front claws

Deputy: Tinyclaw – very small black tom with one white paw _(Cloudpaw)_

Medicine Cats:

Yellowfang – old dark gray she-cat with a broad, flattened face; formerly of ShadowClan

Brackenfur – golden brown tabby tom with an injured leg

Warriors:

Whitestorm – big white tom _(Swiftpaw)_

Oakheart – a reddish brown tom (father of Mosskit, Mistykit, and Stonekit) _(Fernpaw)_

Brindleface – pretty tabby (mother of Ashpaw and Fernpaw)

Longtail – pale tabby tom with dark stripes _(Brightpaw)_

Runningwind – swift tabby tom

Mousefur – small dusky brown she-cat _(Thornpaw)_

Dustpelt – dark brown tabby tom _(Ashpaw)_

Sandstorm – pale ginger she-cat with green eyes

Cinderpelt – fluffy gray she-cat

Apprentices:

Brightpaw – white-and-ginger she-cat

Cloudpaw – long-furred ginger-and-white she-cat

Swiftpaw – black-and-white tom

Thornpaw – golden-brown tabby tom

Ashpaw – gray tom with darker flecks

Fernpaw – pale gray she-cat with darker flecks

Queens:

Frostfur – white-pelted she-cat with beautiful blue eyes (mother of Cinderpaw, Brackenpaw, Thornpaw, and Swiftpaw; caring for Mosskit, Stonekit, and Mistykit)

Speckletail – pale tabby, eldest queen (mother of Brightpaw and Snowkit; caring for Mosskit, Stonekit, and Mistykit)

Willowpelt – very pale gray she-cat with unusual blue eyes (expecting Whitestorm's kits)

Elders:

Snowkit – deaf white tom with blue eyes

Halftail – big dark brown tabby tom with part of his tail missing

Smallear – gray tom with small ears, eldest ThunderClan tom

Patchpelt – small black-and-white tom

One-eye – pale gray she-cat, eldest cat in ThunderClan; virtually blind and deaf

Dappletail – once-pretty tortoiseshell she-cat with a lovely dappled coat

* * *

 **SHADOWCLAN:**

Leader: Nightpelt – black tom

Deputy: Cinderfur – thin gray tom

Medicine Cat: Runningnose – small gray-and-white tom

Warriors:

Stumpytail – brown tabby tom _(Brownpaw)_

Wetfoot – gray tabby tom _(Oakpaw)_

Littlecloud - small tabby tom

Whitethroat – black-and-white tom

Apprentices:

Brownpaw – mottled brown-and-ginger tabby tom

Oakpaw – small, dark brown tom

Queens:

Darkflower – black she-cat

Tallpoppy – long-legged light brown tabby she-cat

Elders:

Brightflower – black-and-white she-cat

Dawncloud- small tabby

* * *

 **WINDCLAN:**

Leader: Tallstar – black and white tom with a very long tail

Deputy: Deadfoot – solid black tom with a twisted paw

Medicine Cat: Barkface – a short-tailed brown tom

Warriors:

Mudclaw – mottled dark brown tom _(Webpaw)_

Tornear – tabby tom _(Tawnypaw)_

Onewhisker – young, lithe brown tabby tom _(Whitepaw)_

Runningbrook – light gray-and-brown tabby she-cat

Apprentices:

Webpaw – dark gray tabby tom

Whitepaw – small white she-cat

Tawnypaw – golden brown she-cat

Queens:

Ashfoot – a gray queen

Morningflower – tortoiseshell queen

* * *

 **RIVERCLAN:**

Leader: Crookedstar – huge light brown tabby with a twisted jaw

Deputy: Leopardfur – unusually spotted golden tabby she-cat

Medicine Cat: Mudfur – long-haired light brown tom

Warriors:

Blackclaw – smoky black tom _(Heavypaw)_

Brambleclaw – big dark brown tabby tom _(Shadepaw)_

Loudbelly – a dark brown tom

Graystripe – long-haired gray tom with a dark stripe along his spine; formerly of ThunderClan (Silverstream's mate)

Apprentices:

Heavypaw – stocky, thickset tabby tom

Shadepaw – very dark gray she-cat

Queens:

Tawnypelt – tortoiseshell she-cat

Silverstream – pretty slender silver tabby she-cat (mother of Featherkit and Stormkit)

Elders:

Graypool – a thin, very dark gray she-cat with a scarred pelt

Goldenflower – pale ginger tabby she-cat (mother of Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt)

* * *

 **CATS OUTSIDE THE CLANS:**

Rusty – handsome ginger tom with green eyes, kittypet (Fiona's mate)

Fiona – lovely long-haired white she-cat with pretty blue eyes, kittypet (mother of Cloudpaw)

Smudge – plump black-and-white kittypet

Barley – black-and-white loner, lives on the farm close to the forest

Ravenpaw – skinny black tom with a white chest and tail-tip; formerly of ThunderClan

Blackfoot – large white tom with huge black paws; formerly of ShadowClan

Russetfur – dark ginger she-cat; formerly of ShadowClan

Boulder – silver tabby tom; formerly of ShadowClan

Darkstripe – sleek black-and-gray tabby tom; formerly of ThunderClan

Bluefur – blue-gray she-cat with a silver muzzle; formerly of ThunderClan


	2. Prologue

**Prologue**

 _The forest was silent. Bluefur_ could still feel the eyes of her Clanmates on her back, though she was deep within the forest now and away from the camp. She shook her head – _former Clanmates,_ she told herself. _I am no ThunderClan cat any longer._

Her jaw set. The events of the battle would not stop washing over her, and she wished they would stop. She did not need the memories to remind her of what happened – she had failed in her plan, and had been exiled. Tigerstar led ThunderClan still, driving it to ruin with his soft heart… and it was all that _kittypet's_ fault.

Bluefur's claws dug into the soft earth as she trotted along. She pretended that her claws weren't catching in the little roots of plants and vegetation, but that they were clawing up and down Tinyclaw's blasted pelt. Her own wounds still stung, but it didn't stop her from wishing that she had not been surprised. _Tinyclaw would be dead if he hadn't pulled some fool trickery on me!_

Bracken and bush and undergrowth and tree passed by her in a blur. None of it mattered anymore – this was not her home any longer. _One day,_ she told herself. _One day I will come back and destroy it all, raze it like fire and make the ashes mine._

 _That day is not today._

If ThunderClan thought she was beaten, they were fools. Bluefur was _never_ beaten.

 _But what about what you've left behind?_ A small voice wondered. It was soft and sweet, buried deep within Bluefur, in a place she had locked away long ago. _What about Oakheart, and your kits? Your friends?_

The thought of her kits stung. Her babies, alone without her… but what could she do? There was no way to take them with her, into exile. _They will be safe with ThunderClan,_ she thought resolutely, hoping it would quiet the small voice. _When the time comes and it's safe for them, I will take my children back._

As for Oakheart… well, what was done was done. Bluefur had never thought Oakheart needed to be involved in her plans. Perhaps, though, if he had… _No,_ she told herself. _It does no good to dwell on that now._ Oakheart hated her. He was too self-righteous for anything else. _I must not look back, or I will be lost._

The ground rumbled beneath her paws, and suddenly Bluefur looked up – the forest had opened up around her, and the stink of the Thunderpath rolled over her in waves. A huge monster rolled past, roaring triumphantly. She had been so deep in thought that she hadn't noticed where she was, and now she was at the edge of ThunderClan territory.

She looked around. This was the agreed rendezvous point – but where were they others? The rogues, formerly of Brokentail's allegiance, had agreed to meet her here should things go awry. They were Brokentail's no longer, however – they were Bluefur's now. _I lead not ThunderClan, but a band of rogues. Ech._ She still did not like the trade.

A brief sniff told her where they were – hidden deep within a cluster of bushes pressed almost right against the Thunderpath. They stank even over the stench of the Twoleg construct. Bluefur made her way towards it – but was met by Darkstripe.

" _There_ you are," he breathed. His yellow eyes flickered over her form, and he curled his lip. "Well, they didn't kill you at least."

"They were too soft for that," Bluefur rasped. "They should have killed me."

"Well, their foolishness is our victory," Darkstripe purred. His tail curled, and Bluefur frowned at that. "You're alive."

Bluefur pushed past him. Darkstripe grunted, obviously wanting more acknowledgement. He had always been needy for that sort of thing, and Bluefur had tried her best to wring it out of him. A cat needed no one's encouragement but their own, but Darkstripe still seemed to not understand.

Inside the cluster of bushes, crouched low beneath the leaves, were the rogues – former ShadowClan cats and a few outsiders, banded together by Brokentail and now in Bluefur's service. All of them were wounded, some worse than others. This small force should have been enough to take out what few ThunderClan cats there were in the camp, but reinforcements had come too quickly. The battle had been a failure, but they looked up at her with hope in their eyes.

"Bluefur," the ginger she-cat Russetfur meowed, "where's Brokenstar? You said -"

"Brokentail is still in ThunderClan." Bluefur cut her off sharply. Pelts rose, but before some cat spat she pointed out, "It was impossible for me to get him out, with all the warriors back in the camp. He is gone, if his wounds haven't killed him already. We cannot risk going back – you are with me now."

Her eyes measured every cat. Each one was looking at her with indignation, considering their options – they didn't have many. ShadowClan would not take them, and Bluefur had no intention of letting them leave anyway. It was Blackfoot who spoke:

"Then Brokentail is gone," he said simply. "We follow you now, Bluefur. Where do we go?"

Bluefur felt satisfaction flash in her pelt. Blackfoot was at least smart enough to be pragmatic about things. Darkstripe sidled up to her and frowned. "We can't stay here," he grunted. "ThunderClan will no doubt be patrolling soon. We need to leave."

As much as she hated the fact that Darkstripe had spoken up like that, Bluefur nodded in agreement. She looked over at the rogues. "Do any of you know a safe place? We need to tend to our wounds and heal before planning our next move." She did not want to admit that she knew little of the territory beyond her – former – borders.

With satisfaction, Blackfoot nodded. "I know a place," he rumbled. "No one will care to look for us there."

Bluefur bit her tongue. She didn't want to sleep in the Carrionplace, if that was what Blackfoot had in mind – but right now she needed their knowledge, and they all needed someplace where they wouldn't be noticed while they recovered.

"We'll move off soon, then," Bluefur decided. She planted her paws and growled, "Lick your wounds, friends -" that was a sickening word "- ThunderClan will not have long to celebrate their victory."

The rogues rumbled in agreement. Bluefur looked them over. They had failed once, yes – but only because of Tinyclaw. The mere thought of that wretched kittypet's name made her pelt flash with rage. How dare he! How dare he squander the gifts she had given him, the tools to become something so much better than himself!

 _He will pay, before any other,_ she thought venomously. She had seen so much potential in him, even if he had been nothing but a kittypet. _My destiny is the rule the forest, and instead of ruling beside me, Tinyclaw will be the_ first _to die._


	3. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 _The day was warm, sunlight_ shafts burning against Tinyclaw's black pelt. Heat clung to him uncomfortably, but he ignored it, crouching lower. To anything looking hard enough, his black pelt and bright blue eyes would stick out.

Beneath the cover a fern he crept, mouth watering. Not far ahead was a pigeon, pecking at the earth, unaware of its hunter. It was rotund and plump, and Tinyclaw's stomach almost growled aloud at the sight of it.

He flexed his claws. The long morning was finally over – leading the dawn patrol, and then hunting for the Clan until past sunhigh. The fresh-kill pile was stocked, but Tinyclaw wanted something fresh for himself, and this was the high season for prey. Even with little rain, this greenleaf had been bountiful. The Clan would eat well, and Tinyclaw had his eyes on his particular pigeon for himself.

Tinyclaw tensed himself to leap – but a second scent wafted over his nose, dropping him back onto his paws. Confused, Tinyclaw glanced at the bird – it seemed to have scented it as well, for its feathers fluffed. Before it opened its wings, however, a white streak sailed through the air and slammed down onto the poor creature. With a bite to the neck, Cloudpaw had killed the pigeon.

She looked down at the plump catch with satisfaction, head high. Tinyclaw slid out of the ferns, doing his best to hide a flash of irritation towards his apprentice. "Well-caught," he meowed evenly. "I didn't see you coming until it was too late."

Cloudpaw's whiskers twitched, and she chuckled, "This stupid bird didn't, either!"

Tinyclaw frowned. Cloudpaw was his apprentice, and his niece at that – it was his responsibility to teach her the ways of the Clan. It had seemed like she was starting to get it, but lately she had lapsed into her usual arrogance. It was getting irritating, wondering if she would ever understand the warrior code and what it meant to the cats that had lived here for generations.

 _It's not helping her get along with her Clanmates, that's for sure,_ Tinyclaw thought, suppressing a sigh. Cloudpaw had been born outside of the forest, as a kittypet – like Tinyclaw had before her. Tinyclaw knew from his own bitter experiences that it took a lot of work to get something other than resentment from the Clan cats – Cloudpaw needed to lose some of her arrogance if she was going to get any cat's respect.

"You were upwind," Tinyclaw told her, his voice tight. _I've taught you this a hundred times!_ "If you hadn't been so quick, the bird would have been gone. Both it and I could scent you, Cloudpaw."

She rolled her eyes and grunted, "I _know_ I was upwind!" She pressed a paw against the pigeon. "This dumb dove was too fat to go far before I could get it!"

Tinyclaw's shoulders tightened. "It's a _pigeon,_ not a dove!" he hissed. "A true warrior shows more respect for the prey that feeds her Clan!"

She glared right into his eyes, dark blue against ice blue. "Yeah, right!" she scoffed. "Thornpaw showed _so_ much respect for the squirrel he dragged back yesterday! He said it was so dopey, a _kit_ could have caught it!"

Tinyclaw snapped, "That is Thornpaw – _you_ are Cloudpaw; someone completely different! Just because Thornpaw does it, doesn't mean you should! You're both still apprentices, and you've both got a lot to learn – and here I thought you were learning quicker!"

Cloudpaw's tail fluffed, a big white cloud. "I caught it, didn't I?" she snapped. "Isn't _that_ what matters?"

"There's more to being a warrior than catching pigeons!" Tinyclaw flashed.

"I'm faster than Thornpaw and stronger than Brightpaw, and I'm a better tracker than Swiftpaw!" she spat indignantly. "What more do you _want_ from me?"

"None of that matters if you have no respect for the warrior code!" Tinyclaw growled. "You _know_ a warrior never attacks with the wind behind them!"

"Big deal!" she growled. Her voice rose into an angry yowl: "You might have been waiting there like a slug, but _I_ got the bird first, and _that's_ what should matter!"

"Quiet!" Tinyclaw hissed. Cloudpaw's voice echoed through the trees. Tinyclaw tensed. The forest was too quiet, too still, too silent… anything could be lying in wait. He looked around, scenting the air. Though he smelled nothing, Tinyclaw's heart did not lessen its frantic beating.

Cloudpaw swallowed. "What is it?" she wondered, her tone quieter. "What are you worried about? I don't smell a thing."

"Nor do I," Tinyclaw admitted.

"Then what's the issue?"

"Bluefur," Tinyclaw said quietly. Bluefur had been banished for a quarter moon, but still she prowled through his dreams like a shadow. She had tried to kill Tigerstar, ThunderClan's leader, and Tinyclaw had placed a large target on his back for defending Tigerstar against her. She was banished, but that meant little to someone like her.

"She's gone," Cloudpaw soothed, though her tone was still sharp. "What would she ever want to do around here?"

"Rules mean nothing to a cat like her," Tinyclaw reminded Cloudpaw. The young cat still bore scars from the battle with Bluefur's rogues. "She made it clear that we hadn't seen the last of her."

"I'm not scared of her," Cloudpaw grumbled. "She's a traitor."

"You should be," Tinyclaw growled quietly. "She knows these woods as well as any warrior in ThunderClan, and she would kill you as much as look at you." Cloudpaw didn't know, didn't understand – Bluefur was vicious and ruthless. She had been Tinyclaw's mentor, and her training had been harsh, brutal, and Tinyclaw's memories of it were slow to fade, if he was ever able to forget.

Cloudpaw sighed. "You've been no fun since you were made deputy," she grumbled, rolling the pigeon about with one paw. "I don't want to hang around if all you're going to do is try to scare me. I'm meant to be hunting for the elders." She got to her paws and dashed away, leaving the lifeless pigeon alone in the dirt.

"Cloudpaw!" Tinyclaw called after her – but she didn't turn back. When her shape was gone from his side, Tinyclaw hissed, "Let Bluefur have her then!"

He looked down at the pigeon. Briefly, he wondered if he ought to carry it back – but he decided that a warrior ought to be responsible for their own fresh-kill. He hid the fat bird up against the roots of an oak and pressed grass around it, to save it from predators. Cloudpaw could come fetch it later, and she would go hungry until she did, Tinyclaw decided. Even in greenleaf, prey shouldn't go to waste.

Tinyclaw pricked his ears. The forest was still quiet, and standing here was scorching Tinyclaw's pelt with the harsh sunlight. For a moment, he wondered if he ought to go after Cloudpaw – but he knew it would do no good. She was too stubborn to listen, after a spat like that.

 _You tried to warn her!_ Tinyclaw could almost hear Graystripe's voice, as if he were right there next to him. Graystripe was gone, though – in RiverClan with his mate Silverstream and the kits that he could not leave fatherless. He and Tinyclaw had trained together as apprentices and done so much as warriors – but now that was all over. Graystripe had made his choice.

 _I can't think about that now,_ Tinyclaw thought, shaking the memories away. _I'm deputy. The Clan needs me._ Whether he had wanted it or not, there was no relinquishing the position now. There were patrols to organize, and hunting parties to send out before the day was done. There was no time to dwell on the past. _Cloudpaw will just have to manage on her own._

* * *

The ground was dry underpaw as Tinyclaw made his way back to camp. The forest was still silent, but as Tinyclaw padded along the ravine that sheltered theThunderClan camp, he could hear the faint murmuring of his Clanmates. Down below he could see them, sharing tongues in the harsh sunlight. Ever since he had been young he'd dreamed of the forest, and now he was here, and it was where he belonged. He couldn't imagine living with Twolegs as a kittypet.

He bounded down the ravine and pushed his way through the camp entrance. ThunderClan's camp was well hidden by tangled gorse and brambles, kept safe by their thorns. Inside the camp was a nice clearing, littered with bushes that made up the Clan's dens and the Highrock, a large bit of the ravine that had tumbled down long ago.

Just inside, outside the nursery, Willowpelt was lying stretched out in the sun. Her belly was large with her kits – not her first litter, but she would stay in the nursery until they were old enough to do without her. Not far, Brindleface watched her two kits – Cloudpaw's littermates – scuffle in the dust. Cloudpaw had recently been made an apprentice and, watching those two made it clear that they were overdue for their names as well.

A murmur of voices caught his ear. Just below the Highrock, where Tigerstar lived and called meetings, a group of warriors were gathered. Whitestorm's snowy head was there, along with Dustpelt and Runningwind and several other warriors. As Tinyclaw drew closer, he could hear their conversation:

"Who's leading the patrol in the evening?" asked Dustpelt with a terse tone. He and his friend Sandstorm had trained with Tinyclaw as apprentices, and he had never lost his sharp tongue – in fact, it seemed to get sharper when Tinyclaw was around.

"Tinyclaw will decide when he comes back from hunting," Whitestorm soothed. As always, Whitestorm was unruffled by sharp tones.

"He should be back by now," Dustpelt complained.

"I _am_ back," Tinyclaw grunted, shouldering his way through the crowd. His size made it difficult, especially when some of these cats were more than twice his size. He bumped into Cinderpelt before he was able to sit beside Whitestorm without complaint.

Dustpelt sighed. "So who will lead the evening patrol?" he wondered.

Tinyclaw frowned. He knew that Dustpelt disliked him for being chosen for deputy, thanks to his heritage. But that seemed to be all the hostility that the tabby warrior dared to throw – at least he wasn't Darkstripe, who had tried to kill Tinyclaw multiple times for his master, Bluefur. The brief thought was pushed away – Darkstripe was gone, too.

"Longtail," Tinyclaw decided. "He can lead it."

Tinyclaw froze. Suddenly, everyone was staring at him as if fish had spilled from his mouth. Feeling awkward under all their eyes, he wondered, "What?"

"Longtail is out with Brightpaw," Mousefur mewed. "They won't be back until sundown. Remember?" Beside her, Dustpelt snorted, eyes glittering with amusement. Runningwind nudged him and grumbled something into the younger warrior's ear.

Tinyclaw cursed himself. _This is all so hard to keep track of!_ Being deputy was far more confusing than being a warrior. Having to organize all these patrols made it hard for Tinyclaw to think sometimes. It made him feel all the more foolish when there was something he ought to have known, since _he_ had been the one to order it done.

"Runningwind, then," he grunted. "Take Cinderpelt and Dustpelt with you."

"Actually," squeaked Cinderpelt. The fluffy gray she-cat lifted her leg, still crisscrossed with red welts from the battle. "Brackenfur and Yellowfang said I shouldn't do patrolling – I'd really like to do it, otherwise. Medicine cat's orders, though."

"You can go hunting with Mousefur, then; just take it easy," Tinyclaw offered. "And…" He grasped for someone who wasn't busy.

"I'll go," Sandstorm offered.

"Thanks," Tinyclaw said. "And Sandstorm." He blinked gratefully at the orange tabby she-cat, and her smile lifted his heart.

"The patrol?" asked Dustpelt. "Evening will have come and gone by the time you've decided."

Tinyclaw grasped again, but his annoyance was mounting. _There aren't enough warriors for this!_ He almost suggested Oakheart – but Tigerstar and Yellowfang had ordered the warrior to take things easy for a while. Losing Bluefur had been a huge blow to him – she'd been his mate, after all.

"You'll have to go on your own," Tinyclaw mewed resignedly. "Take Thornpaw with you, if you want."

Dustpelt didn't look satisfied, but Runningwind nodded. Tinyclaw sighed – it would have to do.

"And sunset?" Mousefur wondered mildly. Tinyclaw glanced at her – the older warrior wasn't trying to test his patience. Though Mousefur could be as prickly as Dustpelt, if not more, sometimes… at least she knew when to tone it down.

Before Tinyclaw could think, Whitestorm's voice cut in: "I'd like to go, if you wouldn't mind." Tinyclaw glanced at the big white warrior. "Longtail and Brightpaw ought to be back by then – they'd like to go, I'm sure."

"Of course," Tinyclaw agreed. He was grateful that the white warrior had taken the charge on that. Tinyclaw was at his wits end, after having to deal with Cloudpaw earlier.

The cats moved away, satisfied with the arrangements. Tinyclaw sighed. "I should have thought all that through, I suppose."

"It'll get easier," Whitestorm assured him. "Every deputy struggles their first few days. One day you'll get up and start issuing orders, just like Bluefur did."

Tinyclaw tensed.

"Everyone's edgier, too," Whitestorm went on. "The battle is still fresh in their minds, and they're anxious to defend their land. Bluefur's treachery has shaken the whole Clan."

Tinyclaw looked at Whitestorm. The white warrior was trying to encourage him, to tell him that things would get better – Tinyclaw understood that, and respected him for it. It was easy for Tinyclaw to forget that not every cat knew about Bluefur's actions before they were brought to light. The murder of the previous deputy, Redtail, and the failed attempts on Tigerstar's life were all things that Tinyclaw had known long before.

 _I'll never do what she did,_ Tinyclaw told himself for the umpteenth time. _Never._

Whitestorm's voice interrupted his thoughts: "I must go see Brindleface," he mewed. "There's something she wanted to speak with me about." He rose to his paws and, just like that, he was across the camp.

Tinyclaw watched him go, his belly rumbling. The hunger pulled his eyes away from Whitestorm, and he wondered about that pigeon Cloudpaw had caught. At the thought of his apprentice, his eyes drifted over to their den, across the camp. Whitestorm's apprentice Swiftpaw had just settled himself outside the warrior's den, looking content but tired. Tinyclaw started towards him.

Swiftpaw stopped washing as Tinyclaw approached. "Hello," he offered, curt.

"Hello," Tinyclaw returned. "Been hunting?"

"Yes," Swiftpaw replied. His eyes shone, betraying his usual stolid attitude. "It was the first time Whitestorm let me hunt by myself."

"Catch anything?"

"Two sparrows and a squirrel," Swiftpaw meowed proudly, grinning. "The squirrel was tough… it almost escaped!"

"Well done!" Tinyclaw praised. Squirrels were a tough catch for apprentices. "Whitestorm was pleased, I assume?"

Swiftpaw nodded. "Don't worry, I took it all to the elders," he meowed. "Whitestorm told me that was what I needed to do with what I caught, so I did. Was that all right?"

Tinyclaw nodded. "Yes!" he assured Swiftpaw. _If only Cloudpaw could be so reliable!_ He excused himself and padded towards the elder's den. ThunderClan had many elders, and two sparrows and a squirrel was not enough to feed them. Tinyclaw sighed, wishing that his apprentice was as reliable as the others.

Voices drifted up from the fallen oak where the elders made their den. Speckletail mewed, "Willowpelt's kits will be born soon." Speckletail was the oldest nursery queen, deciding to stay as a queen rather than return to warrior duties. Of her last kits, Snowkit was deaf – he had been moved to the elders den until Tigerstar could decide whether or not he could be apprenticed properly. Speckletail was in there now, washing her son between his ears.

"New kits are always a good omen," One-eye murmured.

"StarClan knows we need a good one," Smallear grunted darkly. Tinyclaw stopped mid-step, just outside the den. The elders could not see him there, as Tinyclaw's heartbeat quickened.

"You can't still be fretting about the ritual!" hissed Patchpelt. The black and white tom's ears had to be flat, by that tone.

"The what?" One-eye wondered. The oldest she-cat in the Clan was half-blind and half-deaf herself.

"The naming ceremony for the Clan deputy," Patchpelt meowed loudly. "You know, when Bluefur was banished a quarter moon ago?"

One-eye's hissed was unmistakeable. "It's my _ears_ that don't work well, you furball. Not my mind!" She sighed, her temper cooling. The other cats listened in silence, for One-eye was well-respected for her age and wisdom: "StarClan can't be upset with us for how all that turned out. The ceremony might have been wrong, but the circumstances were unusual."

"But that makes it worse!" Dappletail fretted. "What does StarClan think of a Clan whose deputy turned against them, _and_ their successor was named _after_ moonhigh? It looks as though we cannot keep our cats loyal or obey proper ceremonies!"

Tinyclaw dug his claws into the earth, an icy ripple flooding his spine. Bluefur's betrayal had rattled Tigerstar so much that Tinyclaw's ascension to deputy had not happened with the proper words or timing. Tinyclaw had thought that it had blown over by now, but clearly some cats still saw it as a bad omen.

"This will be a dark time, I tell you," Smallear sighed. "I hate to say it – he seems like a stand-up fellow – but his naming has broken Clan ritual for the first time, that I can recall."

The silence from the elders – only broken by Snowkit's muddled squeaks of protest from a rough washing – dropped Tinyclaw's heart into his stomach. Was their faith in him so easily shaken? The cold feeling did not leave his bones, despite the heat of the sun above.

Tinyclaw turned away quickly, unable to face the elders now. His paws shook as he padded towards the nursery, lost in his own spinning thoughts. A sudden movement just outside the nursery caught his eye, and Tinyclaw looked up. He froze, his heart pounding as he recognized Bluefur's pale pelt and dark blue eyes blinking at him. Horrified, Tinyclaw took a step back – but when they tilted their head, Tinyclaw realized his error. This was not Bluefur – it was Mistykit, Bluefur's daughter.


	4. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 _Tinyclaw saw a ripple of_ dark fur, and looked up to see Oakheart slip out of the nursery just behind his gray-blue kit. Another tumbled out on his big paws, a lighter gray than his sisters, and from Oakheart's mouth dangled the youngest, white and patched with gray. Oakheart set down his daughter and sat down behind his kits, nudging them into one area with one of his light-colored paws.

Guilt flooded over Tinyclaw like river water. Oakheart did not seem to notice him there, staring at Mistykit like she was Bluefur herself – but how could Tinyclaw possibly think such dark thoughts? He was Clan deputy – these kits looked up to him as much as every other cat did, probably more! They needed to know that they would be loved and cared for here, regardless of their parentage.

Before Oakheart noticed him standing there like a bird, Tinyclaw managed, "Your kits look healthy." He couldn't help but feel his fur prickling at Mistykit's gaze, though – so blue, so much like her mother's… _Yet there's more emotion in those eyes than I'd ever seen from Bluefur._

Oakheart looked up, and his eyes studied Tinyclaw. Tinyclaw did his best not to flinch at the harsh gaze – Oakheart had little else for anyone but his kits right now. Bluefur had been his mate and his best friend, the mother of the three kits he had gathered between his paws, kits he loved more than life itself. Of any cat, Oakheart knew what these kits would face, and Tinyclaw knew he would not allow anyone to give them a hard time – especially not Tinyclaw.

But instead of reprimanding Tinyclaw for staring, Oakheart bent his head and licked Mosskit between her patchy ears. "It's Mosskit's first time out of the nursery," he meowed.

Tinyclaw swallowed. "They've grown so fast…" Not long ago the kits had been squirming at their mother's belly. At the thought of Bluefur, Tinyclaw's tail gave a twist.

Oakheart, of course, noticed that. His ear flicked, then he got to his paws and padded over to Tinyclaw, until they were nose-to-nose. Tinyclaw forced himself to stand his ground – Oakheart was twice his size and strength, but Tinyclaw was deputy.

"I know how you feel, Tinyclaw," Oakheart meowed quietly. His eyes flashed. "You were always rather transparent – but these are my kits, and they are all I have. I will die to protect them if I must."

"I know," Tinyclaw replied, just as quiet.

"The Clan will never forgive _her,"_ Oakheart did not even say Bluefur's name anymore, "nor should they. What _she_ did was horrible; but these kits have done nothing wrong. I will not see them punished for _her_ mistakes."

The tom tensed. Tinyclaw glanced at the kits – now in a tumbling pile of themselves – and then looked back to Oakheart. Cautiously, he wondered, "What will you tell them, when they ask?"

Oakheart sighed. "I'm not sure," he admitted. His eyes darkened with emotion. "It's inevitable that they'll ask… Perhaps I'll say just that their mother was brave and strong, and that she died fighting for her Clan."

Tinyclaw felt a rush of sympathy for Oakheart. The tom had not been able to do his warrior duties properly since Bluefur was exiled – he'd been staying with his kits, spending almost every moment he could with them. Tinyclaw wished there was something he could do for him, something to bring the old Oakheart back – the cat who was just as much as strong and wise as Whitestorm.

"They will be safe here, Oakheart," Tinyclaw assured him.

Oakheart turned away, not seeming to hear Tinyclaw. He ushered the kits up onto their paws, nudging them along with one of his paws. The group padded off into the clearing, probably to tour the camp. Just as Oakheart left, though, Whitestorm appeared, squeezing out of the nursery.

Whitestorm watched Oakheart go for a moment, then sighed and turned to Tinyclaw. "Brindleface says its time her kits were apprenticed," he meowed.

Tinyclaw pushed Oakheart and the kits out of his thoughts. "Of course," he agreed. The kits were just as old as Cloudpaw, if not older. "Does Tigerstar know?"

Whitestorm shook his head. "Brindleface wanted to tell him herself, but he hasn't been out of his den in several days," the white warrior replied.

Tinyclaw frowned. Though Tigerstar was the first to admit that the nursery was not his area of expertise, he was Clan leader – taking an interest in Clan life was his job. Tinyclaw suppressed a sigh, knowing for himself how right Whitestorm was. Tigerstar hadn't left his den for at least two days.

"It's understandable," Whitestorm offered when Tinyclaw did not speak. "He is still recovering from the battle with the rogues."

Tinyclaw almost flinched at that, knowing as well as Whitestorm did that Tigerstar's physical wounds were healed. What remained, though… the wounds on Tigerstar's heart were still there, open and sore as ever. Both warriors knew that Tigerstar sometimes found it hard to even leave his nest.

"Shall I go tell him?" Tinyclaw offered.

"Of course," Whitestorm agreed. "That ought to cheer him up, I think."

"I'm sure it will," Tinyclaw assured him. "ThunderClan hasn't had this many apprentices in moons! The other Clans will be jealous."

Whitestorm nodded in agreement. Then, he asked, "Speaking of apprentices, where is Cloudpaw? I thought he was fetching prey for the elders?"

Tinyclaw _did_ flinch at that. Awkwardly, he meowed, "Y-Yes, she is… I don't know what's taking her so long…"

Whitestorm idly licked his chest fur. "The woods are not as safe as they once were," he meowed quietly. "Don't forget that ShadowClan and WindClan are still upset with us for sheltering Brokentail. They don't yet know that Brokentail is dead… and they might attack again."

Tinyclaw nodded in grim agreement. Brokentail had been Brokenstar once, leader of ShadowClan. As leader he'd done heinous things, killing kits and casting out warriors for being too old for fighting. He'd driven out WindClan, leaving the moors empty for his Clan to hunt in. He had attacked ThunderClan after being driven out of ShadowClan, but was blinded and crippled, and taken in as a prisoner out of mercy – a decision ShadowClan and WindClan had not been happy about.

 _He's dead, now,_ Tinyclaw thought. Bluefur had used Brokentail's rogues to attack ThunderClan during a time when they were defenseless – during the fighting Brokentail had lost a life, and Yellowfang had dragged him away to recover. Yellowfang did not know, but Tinyclaw had watched her kill Brokentail with her own paws, and the aid of deadly deathberries – a hard task, considering that Brokentail had been her own son.

Yet Tinyclaw knew that Whitestorm was not just speaking of angry Clans, but Bluefur too. The traitor was still out there, somewhere. The whole Clan knew it. Yet Tinyclaw could not help but be defensive: "You let Swiftpaw out on his own this morning."

"Yes," Whitestorm affirmed mildly, "but I told him to stay in the ravine and be back before sunhigh." There was concern in Whitestorm's pale yellow eyes. "I hope she comes back before too long, for her own sake."

Tinyclaw looked away. "I'm going to talk to Tigerstar," he mumbled.

"Good," Whitestorm agreed. "I'll take Swiftpaw out for some training. His fighting skills are sharp, but I know his hunting isn't as good as it could get."

Tinyclaw turned away before Whitestorm got to his paws. Silently cursing Cloudpaw, Tinyclaw headed for Tigerstar's den in the Highrock. Before entering the lichen-draped den, Tinyclaw gave himself a quick wash and put Cloudpaw out of his mind. Then, he announced himself and entered.

Tigerstar's den was cool, but seemed stuffy despite the changed moss. The walls were smooth, hollowed out by an old stream long ago. In the middle, on scattered sand and moss, was Tigerstar, settled in his nest. His dark fur was matted and unkempt. _From wounds, or from apathy?_ Tinyclaw pushed the thought away.

He took a quiet sniff. _No fresh-kill scent,_ he thought. _Tigerstar hasn't eaten yet today, and he didn't eat last night, either._ Worry prickled Tinyclaw's pelt. Tigerstar had been the pinnacle of bravery and strength, but now he was hunched in his nest like a duck, staring at nothing.

Yet when Tinyclaw approached, Tigerstar's head rose, and his eyes sparkled with a little interest. He looked tired, despite being in his nest for most of the day.

"Tigerstar," Tinyclaw began respectfully, bowing his head. "Brindleface says that her kits are ready to become apprentices."

"Already?" Tigerstar murmured.

Tinyclaw waited for him to announce when the ceremony would be, and the other necessary features of the rite – but nothing came.

Coughing gently, Tinyclaw asked, "Any… idea who their mentors will be?"

"Mentors…" Tigerstar echoed.

Tinyclaw swallowed. _That tone… that's not a good tone._

Tigerstar's neck fur bristled and he spat, his tone full of misery, "Is there _anyone_ in this Clan who can be trusted with them?"

Tinyclaw was too stunned to answer. Tigerstar's eyes, sharp like flint, glared at him. "Can _you_ take them? Or Graystripe?"

Pushing his shock away, Tinyclaw shook his head. _Just take things as they come,_ he told himself. _He doesn't remember Graystripe isn't part of ThunderClan anymore!_ He pushed it all away and composed himself. He told Tigerstar firmly, "I'm training Cloudpaw, Tigerstar. I can't take another apprentice."

Tigerstar was still fuming, amber eyes wide. Tinyclaw continued, "Tigerstar, the only warriors who weren't fit to train these kits were Bluefur and Darkstripe – they're gone now. They're gone for good, and they won't be training any ThunderClan kits ever again." He searched Tigerstar for a reaction – but the warrior was shivering a little and staring at nothing. Tinyclaw went on, "Brindleface was hoping for a ceremony soon – the kits are too big for the nursery, and they're older than Cloudpaw!"

Finally, Tigerstar seemed to come back to himself. He shook his head briskly. Tinyclaw felt relief flood over him as his leader's tabby pelt lay flat again. "We'll have the ceremony before we eat this evening," he decided certainly.

"And their mentors?" Tinyclaw wondered.

Suddenly Tigerstar stiffened. Eyes hard, he stared at Tinyclaw. "You decide," he meowed tersely.

Tinyclaw frowned, but Tigerstar needed no more pushing. Bowing his head, he excused himself from the den.

Outside, in the shade of the Highrock, Tinyclaw sat down to wash. _He doesn't trust us,_ he thought, his paws trembling a little. _Of course he wouldn't – no cat knew of Bluefur but me, and no cat truly knows how deep it all went. But he can't say things like that!_

He shook himself. It'd only been a quarter-moon since the attack, and anxiety still plagued the whole Clan, not just Tigerstar. Perhaps it would fade, given time? Most things did. _I just have to make it seem like Tigerstar is still the same cat he was before, or the whole Clan will be panicking… and that_ won't _go away!_

 _But me, choosing mentors?_ Tinyclaw trembled more at the thought. _That's mouse-brained! What do I know about choosing a mentor?_

He got to his paws and headed for the nursery. Time was ticking, and evening was not far away. There wouldn't be a ceremony if no one knew about it, and there definitely would be quite a lot of anger on his head if Tinyclaw didn't pick mentors before then. Willowpelt was resting just outside the nursery, still sunning. When Tinyclaw approached, she raised her head.

"Hey," she mewed sleepily. "How's life as deputy?"

Her tone was not challenging – most cats seemed all right with Tinyclaw's status now, aside from Dustpelt and the more superstitious ones. Tinyclaw nodded to her and replied, "It's going well. Where's Brindleface?"

"Inside," Willowpelt offered, flicking her tail at the nursery.

Tinyclaw nodded and padded inside. It was dark in the nursery, the only light coming in from the tiniest gaps in the brambles and the entrance itself, casting warm yellow shafts along the moss-lined floor. Tinyclaw noted the holes and knew they'd need to be patched before leaf-fall.

Brindleface looked up when he entered, her kits – as big as Cloudpaw – scrambling over and over one another. She looked relieved at the sight of him.

"Good news," Tinyclaw offered, keeping his voice low. "The ceremony will be this evening."

Brindleface's eyes widened. "Wonderful!" she breathed. She nodded at her kits, still tumbling around. "Those two are far too big for the nursery, and they want to be apprentices with Cloudpaw more than anything!"

Tinyclaw nodded in agreement. The kits were too big, that was for sure. Brindleface went on, "Do you know who their mentors will be?"

Swallowing, Tinyclaw shook his head and wondered, trying to be casual, "Do… you have any recommendations?"

Brindleface frowned, but she shook her head. "No," she insisted, "Tigerstar will know best."

 _Helpful,_ Tinyclaw remarked to himself. He sighed. "You're right," he agreed heavily.

A breeze stirred outside, filtering through the holes and carrying the scent of Bluefur's kits to Tinyclaw's nose. He stiffened, and he wondered to Brindleface, "Where's Oakheart and the kits?"

"Gone to see the elders," Brindleface replied casually. She licked her side, then guessed, "You see Bluefur in Mistykit, don't you?"

Tinyclaw nodded uncomfortably.

"She's got her mother's looks, but that's all," Brindleface insisted gently. "She and Mosskit get into _everything,_ poor Stonekit has to keep them in line."

"That's good," Tinyclaw decided. He turned away. "I'll see you at the ceremony." He headed out before another word could be said.

Outside, Willowpelt raised her head. "Does this mean the ceremony's been decided?" she wondered.

"Yes," Tinyclaw answered.

"Who will be their men -"

Tinyclaw sped up to a trot, moving out of Willowpelt's vocal range quickly. His pelt prickled – the news of the ceremony would spread through the camp like wildfire, and questions about the kits' mentors would be flying at him from every angle. There would be no escaping it – no time for Tinyclaw to actually _decide_ who the mentors were.

Mind in a whirl, Tinyclaw's paws took him to the medicine cat's den, almost on instinct. The familiar scents and quiet flooded over him, calming him down one breath at a time. He brushed past the ferns and into the medicine clearing, where Yellowfang's apprentice, Brackenfur, was poking through some herbs.

Without Graystripe, Brackenfur was the closest thing Tinyclaw had to a best friend – Sandstorm came close, but she was not a cat he could talk about this with. If anyone could calm his nerves, it would be the medicine cats.

Tinyclaw slowed his pace and sighed at the edge of the clearing. It was nowhere as large as the clearing of the main camp, but it was lined with ferns and quiet, and at the back was a tall rock split in half, where Yellowfang made her den.

Brackenfur flicked his tail to Tinyclaw, getting to his paws. Tinyclaw frowned briefly, taking in Brackenfur's twisted, hairless back leg. An accident on the Thunderpath that would have claimed his sister Cinderpelt's life took Brackenfur's leg instead – it had been a trap, laid by Bluefur for Tigerstar. That Bluefur had gotten away with something so horrible still made Tinyclaw angry.

"What's up?" Brackenfur wondered. "Are you feeling well?"

"No," Tinyclaw replied. He padded over to Brackenfur and touched noses with the tom. "I need your help, though."

"Of course," Brackenfur offered. He sat back down, his leg sticking out awkwardly. "Anything."

Tinyclaw sat down, curling his tail over his paws. He took a deep breath, but instead of spilling his worries he asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Me?" Brackenfur wondered. He flicked his tail. "Well, I mixed up some herbs for a poultice and Yellowfang called me a danger to the Clan… but that's about it," he meowed. "Nothing's happened since that bird omen."

Tinyclaw's stomach churned. The bird was going to be a meal for Tigerstar, but when it was picked up it fell apart into a mess of rot and maggots. "Did you ever puzzle out what it meant?" Tinyclaw asked.

Brackenfur sighed. "No," he admitted. "It could have been everything, but it could have been nothing. I feel like I should have had a stronger feeling about what it meant, you know? It bothers me, sometimes, not knowing for sure."

"There's no way you'd be able to know for sure," Tinyclaw insisted. "I don't know much about signs from StarClan, but aren't they… vague?"

"Yellowfang said that," Brackenfur sighed. "She also said that it comes with time – but StarClan chose this path for me, Tinyclaw." He lifted his leg to emphasize. "Why would they do that, and then send a sign that I can't read?"

"You've done so much good, though!" Tinyclaw breathed. "Brackenfur, you can't let it all hinge on signs – your skill with herbs is phenomenal! You _saved_ Silverstream! Even _Yellowfang_ admitted that it was a slim chance!"

"I know," Brackenfur sighed. He smiled slightly. "And I'm proud of that, I am – but signs are just as much part of what a medicine cat does as saving cats lives is. I need to be able to do both." But he shook himself and insisted, "I need to stop feeling sorry for myself. Leaves a bad taste in my mouth – so what did you want to talk about?"

"A few things," Tinyclaw admitted. He sighed and admitted, "Mistykit."

Brackenfur cocked an ear. He guessed, "Because she looks like Bluefur?"

Tinyclaw nodded.

"It's only in appearance," Brackenfur assured Tinyclaw. "On the outside she looks like Bluefur, sure – but all the kits sort of do. Each one of them has a piece of Oakheart in them too, remember… and Oakheart and the other queens are raising them. They won't see the world the way Bluefur did."

"You say that, but…" Tinyclaw sighed. "I know. I _know._ But when she looked at me, I was frozen. It was like Bluefur was right there, staring at me. Like… like…"

Brackenfur laid a tail along Tinyclaw's shoulders as the black tom shuddered. The golden-brown medicine cat offered, "I know, Tinyclaw – Bluefur was a bad cat. She did terrible things, not just to the Clan, but to _you_ – but as Mistykit grows up and becomes her own cat, as they _all_ do, you'll stop seeing things that way."

"You think?" Tinyclaw wondered.

Brackenfur nodded.

Tinyclaw sighed. "Thanks," he breathed.

"Anytime," Brackenfur agreed. "Now, what's your other issue?"

"I have to decide who is going to mentor Brindleface's kits," Tinyclaw told him. "Tigerstar asked me to do it."

Brackenfur's eyes widened. "How is that a problem?" he breathed. "That's an _honor!"_

"Maybe," Tinyclaw mewed, "but I'm not sure what to do about it. Who do I pick?"

"Well, any cat who already has an apprentice is out," Brackenfur pointed out. "So that leaves you with only a few choices, actually."

"Yes, but who is the _best?"_ Tinyclaw wondered.

Brackenfur shrugged. "Being a mentor isn't about being the best at something – it's about what you can teach your apprentice, and what they can teach you."

Tinyclaw sighed. Yes, that sounded right. But he shuddered again and admitted, "My apprenticeship was bad, Brackenfur – what if I give the kits the wrong mentors, and their apprenticeships end up bad, too?"

Brackenfur rolled his eyes. "Tinyclaw – your mentor was _Bluefur._ She's _gone,_ and no one in the Clan will ever mentor a cat like she did you. You have to trust in that."

Tinyclaw nodded in agreement, then counted out the warriors who didn't have apprentices in his mind. Out loud, he offered, "I have Runningwind, Oakheart, Dustpelt, Sandstorm, and Cinderpelt who are free to take on an apprentice."

"Well, it's a start," Brackenfur agreed. "I'd rule out Runningwind, though – he's never wanted an apprentice, I don't think that will change now."

Tinyclaw nodded. Runningwind had expressed that more than once. He was fine as he was, and had admitted that the thought of having an apprentice made him nervous. "That leaves Oakheart, Dustpelt, Sandstorm, and Cinderpelt."

"Alright, then," Brackenfur decided. "Let's puzzle this out – Cinderpelt?"

Tinyclaw frowned. Brackenfur's sister was energetic and determined, but… "She's too young," Tinyclaw admitted. "She only just became a warrior not long ago – I don't think she can handle being a mentor so soon."

Brackenfur nodded in agreement.

"I wonder…" Tinyclaw murmured. Louder, he suggested, "Oakheart might be a good choice, I think."

"Oh?" Brackenfur tilted his head.

Tinyclaw nodded. "He's a great warrior, but he's been hurt recently. Maybe having an apprentice would help get him back on his paws? Give him something other than his kits to think about?"

Brackenfur nodded. "That sounds like a good reason," he agreed. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to care for your kits, but the queens can handle most of it. He'd still have free time to visit them all he liked, and he could still sleep in the nursery if he wanted. Tigerstar wouldn't take that from him."

"So, Oakheart," Tinyclaw decided, trying to sound more confident. _Oakheart will work… I hope._

"Now, the other kit?" Brackenfur wondered. "You've still got Sandstorm and Dustpelt to choose between."

Now _that_ was a hard choice. Both were well qualified, but there was only one kit left who needed a mentor. Choosing one would anger the other, for sure. _Do I really have to decide which one I would rather have angry with me?_

"If I might offer my opinion," Brackenfur began. Tinyclaw nodded, and he went on: "Dustpelt might be the better choice here."

"You think?"

Brackenfur nodded. "Of the two, he's the one who is itching for more responsibility, and more to do. He wants to feel important, and as you've seen he gets upset when he doesn't. Why not give him the honor of having an apprentice? It might get him to lay off of you a little."

Tinyclaw frowned. _That's… a decent reason, actually._ "I think you're right," he agreed. _Sandstorm will be downhearted, but that won't last. She loves being free to do as she pleases right now._ "Dustpelt it is."

Brackenfur's eyes lit up. "Well!" he huffed. "You seem to have made a very important, deputy-like decision!"

"Thanks to you," Tinyclaw chuckled, nudging him. "I think I might have panicked otherwise!"

Brackenfur beamed. "That's what I'm here for!"

"Oh?" rasped an annoyed voice, "Aren't you here to mix that poultice for me?" Yellowfang padded out of the cracked rock, her fur dusty with old herbs and her fur characteristically rankled. The flat-faced she-cat's orange eyes razed over the two toms, frowning.

Brackenfur started, then turned away from Tinyclaw. "Sorry! I'm on it!"

Yellowfang chuckled. She padded over to Tinyclaw and wondered, "So what's this about? I only caught bits."

Quickly, Tinyclaw explained what he'd come here for, and how Brackenfur had helped him. Tinyclaw left out the parts about Brackenfur's uncertainty and Tinyclaw's fears about Mistykit and her siblings, however. Yellowfang didn't need to know that.

"Well," Yellowfang chuckled. "Would you look at that? My apprentice is helping as if he was a true medicine cat, and you were the Clan's leader. How prophetic."

Tinyclaw chuckled at her words. "I won't be Clan leader for a long time, Yellowfang – if ever," he told her. _And, honestly, I don't even want to think about that._ He was one of a select few who knew that Tigerstar was on his last life. _Let me figure out being deputy first!_

Yellowfang's eyes flashed. "I suppose," she rasped. Then, she grunted, "Well, if you're not sick and that's all you came here for, you ought to be leaving! Just because there aren't any sick cats here now doesn't mean there won't be in a moment!"

"O-Of course," Tinyclaw stammered. He got to his paws, and added, "Thanks again, Brackenfur." Brackenfur only grunted, clearly concentrating on the root hastily stuffed into his jaws.

Tinyclaw padded out of the den, feeling a whole lot lighter – for now, at least. It was only a matter of time before he figured something had to happen.


	5. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

" _Thornpaw, have you seen Cloudpaw?"_ Tinyclaw asked. He had just come out of the fern tunnel and nearly run into Mousefur's apprentice, carrying two mice in his jaws.

Thornpaw balked in shock for a moment, then shook his head and went on his way. Tinyclaw felt annoyance flashing through his pelt. Cloudpaw should have been back ages ago! What was keeping her?

His tail bristled as a thought crossed his mind: _What if Bluefur found her?_ Panic made his heart race, and he hastened to Tigerstar's den. He would tell Tigerstar his decision, then go and look for Cloudpaw. She had been gone too long, and _someone_ had to.

Tinyclaw didn't pause to smooth his ruffled fur at the Highrock. He announced himself and padded inside when he heard Tigerstar's reply. Tigerstar was crouching just where Tinyclaw had left him not long ago – staring at a wall with his great big paws tucked beneath him.

"Tigerstar," Tinyclaw began, dipping his head respectfully, "I thought that Oakheart and Dustpelt would make good mentors."

Tigerstar worked his jaw. He glanced at Tinyclaw, almost staring right through him, it seemed, and then grunted, "Very well." He pushed himself to his haunches.

Tinyclaw felt a wave of disappointment wash over him. Tinyclaw had worked this over so well with Brackenfur, and it seemed like he could have chosen anyone to do it with how elated Tigerstar seemed. Did his choice matter at all, or did Tigerstar just not want to bother?

Despite this, Tinyclaw offered, "Shall I send for them? Oakheart is still in camp, but Dustpelt is out on patrol. Thornpaw just came back and could -"

Tigerstar's eyes widened, glowing with indignation. He interrupted Tinyclaw, growling, "Out of camp?" His whiskers twitched. "How many more warriors are 'out of camp'?"

Tinyclaw uncomfortably went over the patrol schedule for the rest of the day. With each name listed, Tigerstar's eyes widened and one more tooth exposed itself as his muzzle wrinkled. The great tabby warrior's muscles tensed, and his claws were sliding in and out of those big, pale-colored paws.

Swallowing, Tinyclaw finished, "I'm still here – and Oakheart and -"

Tigerstar's eyes flashed with flame. "Don't patronize me! I'm not some kit!" he roared. Tinyclaw shrank back as Tigerstar growled on: "Make sure you stay in camp until the next patrol comes back. We've been attacked twice this past moon, and I won't let the camp be undefended again! In the future I want at least three warriors left in camp at all times. Is that clear?"

Tinyclaw dared not meet Tigerstar's eyes, lest he be burned in them. "Of course, Tigerstar," he stammered.

"When Dustpelt returns, send he and Oakheart to me," Tigerstar snapped. "I wish to speak to them before the ceremony."

"Yes," Tinyclaw agreed, "I will."

"Now go!" Tigerstar snapped, lashing his tail.

Tinyclaw frowned, backing out of the den. He was clearly dismissed, as if his presence here was endangering the Clan. In the shade of the Highrock, Tinyclaw sat on his haunches and licked his fur smooth. What could he do now? Cloudpaw was still out there, with Bluefur possibly prowling at her heels… He couldn't leave, though; not until the patrol came back.

Almost as if his thoughts had summoned them, the thorn tunnel twitched. Runningwind and Dustpelt padded through, looking dusty and paw-sore. Tinyclaw rose to meet them. _They must have sent Thornpaw ahead with his mice._ Now he could leave the camp and search for Cloudpaw!

"The borders are secure," Runningwind reported as Tinyclaw faced him. "No signs of the other Clans."

"We did smell your apprentice, though," Dustpelt mewed, a grin on his face. "Near Twolegplace."

"Did you see her?" Tinyclaw asked, trying to be as casual as he could.

Runningwind shook his head. Dustpelt chuckled, "She was probably looking for a fat bird in the gardens – seems like that would be her style."

Tinyclaw ignored Dustpelt. To Runningwind he asked, "How fresh?"

"Fairly," Runningwind told him. "We didn't follow it long."

Tinyclaw nodded. At least he had a place to start. If anything, she was probably seeing if Fiona, her mother, was out and about for a chat. _Despite my orders to only go and see her with me – ugh! Why won't she listen to me?_

"Dustpelt," Tinyclaw meowed, "fetch Oakheart – you two are to see Tigerstar as soon as possible."

Dustpelt frowned, but nodded and padded off to find Oakheart. Tinyclaw watched Oakheart reluctantly leave his kits with the elders to follow Dustpelt to the Highrock. Privately, Tinyclaw wondered if he'd made the right decision – but Oakheart needed something to distract him from his worries. _Should I go with them?_ He wondered. _What if Tigerstar isn't himself when they go in?_

Before he decided, he spotted Runningwind and Thornpaw heading for the camp entrance. Panic raced through Tinyclaw again – if they left, Tinyclaw would be forced to stay in camp until another patrol returned. "Where are you going?" he wondered, trying not to sound frustrated.

Runningwind flicked his tail. "I promised Mousefur I'd teach Thornpaw how to catch squirrels this afternoon," he replied.

Tinyclaw shut his jaws. He couldn't bring himself to ask Runningwind to stay – Mousefur would be upset, and Thornpaw too. Runningwind and Thornpaw exited the camp, and Tinyclaw sighed heavily watching them. Thornpaw followed Runningwind so respectfully, and Runningwind wasn't even his mentor! Tinyclaw couldn't get Cloudpaw to even respect him!

 _What's their secret,_ Tinyclaw wondered, _and how can I learn it?_

* * *

The afternoon dragged on, and darkness colored the sky. Tinyclaw had settled himself just outside the warrior's den to watch for Cloudpaw's return – but as the sky turned a dark shade of blue, there was no sign of her. Tinyclaw was not as afraid for her as he had been before, thanks to Dustpelt's report. Even if it was a jibe, Tinyclaw liked knowing that there hadn't been any immediate threat to Cloudpaw.

The sun was almost gone when the hunting patrol returned, followed by Whitestorm and Swiftpaw, who had probably been drawn out by the smell of fresh-kill. Longtail and Brightpaw returned from hunting shortly afterward, but Cloudpaw was still absent.

As they put their fresh-kill on the pile and left, Tinyclaw saw that the pile was well-stocked. Despite that, no cat dared take food. News of the ceremony had spread like wildfire, and every cat seemed to be waiting for the excuse for a celebratory meal. Thornpaw, Swiftpaw, and Brightpaw had collected together to murmur excitedly about it – until Tigerstar appeared from behind the Highrock, and all went silent.

Tigerstar leaped onto the Highrock in one easy leap. Clearly, he had recovered from his physical wounds – yet his mind was still scarred. Why hadn't that healed as quickly? Tinyclaw didn't know, but he wished it would happen sooner rather than later. Tigerstar's chin was high, but his voice was dry from lack of use as he called the Clan together with the familiar summons.

Tinyclaw's confidence returned slightly as he joined the Clan below the Highrock. His own naming ceremony had been long ago, but he would never forget it – it was, after all, the moment he had officially joined the Clan. Proudly squaring his shoulders, Tinyclaw took the deputy's place just below the Highrock as the rest of the Clan gathered around in its shadow.

Oakheart and Dustpelt were at the front of the crowd, and Tinyclaw passed his gaze over them. Dustpelt was leering, looking upset despite the honor about to be bestowed upon him. Oakheart, on the other paw, looked determined… a lot more like his old self. Perhaps Tinyclaw had made the right decision.

"We are here today to give two kits their apprentice names," Tigerstar began formally. He glanced down at Brindleface, sitting just at the edge of the crowd with her two kits beside her. Both were groomed to a sheen, and excitement shone in their eyes. An expectant hush fell over the crowd.

"Come forward," Tigerstar commanded from above.

The mottled kits, bristling with anticipation, padded forward together. In the center of the clearing, they stood waiting.

"Dustpelt, you will be mentor to Ashpaw," Tigerstar announced.

Dustpelt padded forward to stand beside the mottled tom.

"Dustpelt," Tigerstar meowed, "this will be your first apprentice; share with him your courage and determination. You will train him well, I know, but don't be afraid to look to senior warriors for help."

Dustpelt nodded and touched noses with Ashpaw. They padded back into the crowd together, Ashpaw purring loudly.

This left Ashpaw's sister alone in the clearing, shivering anxiously. Tinyclaw longed to soothe her – but he didn't need to wait long before Tigerstar spoke:

"Oakheart," Tigerstar meowed powerfully, "you will be mentor to Fernpaw."

Oakheart stepped forward, calming the kit with his presence. He looked up at Tigerstar stolidly, and Tinyclaw wondered if they'd talked about anything beyond the mentorship.

"You are intelligent and brave, Oakheart," Tigerstar meowed. "Pass on all you know to this apprentice."

"I will," Oakheart agreed. He bent down to touched noses with Fernpaw. The she-cat seemed nervous at first, but Oakheart's warm gaze soothed her. Together they padded back into the crowd.

The Clan began congratulating the apprentices, gathering around and chanting their names. Tinyclaw joined them, offering good luck to them. As he was about to pad away, he caught sight of a flash of white at the edge of the clearing – Cloudpaw.

Tinyclaw hurried to meet her. "Where have you been?" he demanded.

Cloudpaw dropped the vole that was clamped in her jaws. "Hunting," she grunted back.

Tinyclaw glanced down at the vole – small, and that was all it was. Just a vole. Disappointment flashed through him. "You were gone all this time, and you came back with only a vole?"

"It's better than nothing," she reasoned.

"What about the pigeon?" Tinyclaw wondered.

Cloudpaw frowned. "Didn't you bring that back?" she asked.

"Of course not!" Tinyclaw hissed. "It was _your_ catch – it was your responsibility!"

Cloudpaw sighed. Her tail kinked. "I suppose I'll have to fetch it in the morning, then?"

"Of course!" Tinyclaw meowed, exasperated, "And you can go hungry until you do! You need to learn to have some respect for others – and your prey!" He lashed his tail at the vole. "Put that on the fresh-kill pile."

Cloudpaw only sighed again. She picked up the vole and headed for the fresh-kill pile. Furious, Tinyclaw watched her go. How could she stand to be so blasé? So disrespectful to those who had given her so much?

Whitestorm was by his side a moment later. "She'll learn when she's ready," he offered quietly. "Not every apprentice is the same."

"I hope so," Tinyclaw grumbled. He forced his claws to keep sheathed. If Cloudpaw _didn't_ learn… what would he do?

"Have you decided who will lead the dawn patrol?" Whitestorm wondered diplomatically, changing the subject.

Tinyclaw glanced gratefully at the white tom. He sighed. He'd spent the whole day worrying about Cloudpaw that he hadn't thought about patrols for the next day.

Whitestorm offered mildly, "Take your time."

"It's all right," Tinyclaw stated. "I'll lead it. I'll take Mousefur and Longtail with me."

"Good idea," Whitestorm agreed. "Shall I tell them?" He nodded to the fresh-kill pile, where cats were beginning to gather. Mousefur and Longtail were among them.

"Yes," Tinyclaw meowed, "thanks."

Whitestorm nodded and padded towards the fresh-kill pile. Tinyclaw's own belly growled, but he kept himself back so that every cat could have their deserved share. And yet… Tinyclaw frowned. Within the throng of cats, Cloudpaw was selecting a fat mouse.

Fury flashed over Tinyclaw's pelt. _What did I_ just _say to her?_ He seethed, digging his claws into the dirt. Yet starting a confrontation before the whole Clan would simply make him look foolish – what could he do?

Before he could decide, Whitestorm sidled over to Cloudpaw. He halted her, murmuring something urgently into her ear. Cloudpaw's tail sagged, and she dropped the mouse and sulked off to the apprentice's den, Whitestorm's sandy eyes on her the whole way.

Tinyclaw swallowed his hunger, suddenly not feeling it over the embarrassment that washed over him. What sort of mentor couldn't even get their apprentice to listen to the simplest commands? What Clanborn cat would ever show such disrespect? How could he have confronted her without starting a slew of rumors and snide comments? Shame flooded Tinyclaw. Shouldn't he know how to do all of that by now?

He glanced at Tigerstar. With Graystripe gone, Tinyclaw longed to share his worries with someone – anyone. If there was anyone would could help, it had to be Tigerstar! Yet as he looked at Tigerstar, sitting alone in the shadow of the Highrock with a thrush between his paws, Tinyclaw's heart sank.

The big, bold tom who had given Tinyclaw a home and a place here now looked hunted, his eyes darting this way and that and yet still somehow staying vacant, as if he were looking at nothing. As Tinyclaw watched, Tigerstar got to his paws and left, slipping into his den and leaving the thrush untouched on the ground.


	6. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 _Paws padded through Tinyclaw's dreams_ that night. A small tortoiseshell tom emerged from the bushes, sliding into the dreamworld forest beside Tinyclaw, his amber eyes flashing. Tinyclaw gazed at Redtail, a somber feeling in his heart. This cat had been the ThunderClan deputy before him, before Bluefur, before Lionheart. Redtail had been murdered the day Tinyclaw came to the forest, cut down by Bluefur in hopes that she might become the next deputy. Though Lionheart was chosen instead, Bluefur eventually got her wish. Everything had started with Redtail.

Redtail spared him a glance before rushing off through the woods.

Tinyclaw let out a cry of shock – then followed. Bushes and trees whipped by, and though Redtail's bushy red tail was always within sight of Tinyclaw, the former deputy always seemed to be just ahead no matter how fast Tinyclaw pumped his short legs.

Redtail led the way along a swerving, curving track through the woods. Tinyclaw didn't know whether this was an actual place or an invented trail – but he didn't have time to stop and wonder. Redtail was running, and Tinyclaw wished he knew why. He called out, but Redtail ignored him.

Suddenly a massive shape burst from the brush – Tigerstar, his eyes wide and challenging. Tinyclaw skidded to a stop just before colliding with his leader. Pads burning, lungs aching, Tinyclaw felt smaller than small under his gaze – and he felt like a failure, too. But Tigerstar disappeared as quickly as he came, and Tinyclaw got to his paws to follow Redtail again.

He hadn't taken two steps before Cloudpaw bowled him over, glaring at him. Tinyclaw gathered his breath and wriggled away from his niece. _It's a dream,_ he told himself. Another glance around told him that Whitestorm was glaring at him, too. Oakheart was just beside him, doing the same. Redtail was still just within sight, and Tinyclaw pushed himself to his paws and continued after him.

As much as he tried to ignore it, soon enough every bush or fern he glanced at held a ThunderClan cat, glowering at him in displeasure or fear, until Tinyclaw was running through a path made solely by his Clanmates. Redtail was still just ahead.

Every sound in the forest was suddenly replaced by a chorus of questioning, challenging, mews. Each cat seemed to have something to demand, or ask, or wish, or complain about… and Tinyclaw was hearing it all, jumbled together in a cacophony of what seemed like all his possible failings. Tinyclaw's ears were full of the sound, and his paws trembled even as he continued on after Redtail.

And then one voice rose over all of them: "Tinyclaw!" Whitestorm. "Mousefur and Longtail are waiting to leave. Tinyclaw? Wake up!"

Suddenly as it had come, everything disappeared – and Tinyclaw was awake, blinking away sleep. His heart was pounding in his ears. Whitestorm was standing beside him, in an old friend's nest, looking down with no suspicion in his sandy eyes.

"Wh-what?" Tinyclaw wondered, his voice rasping and groggy.

"It's dawn," Whitestorm told him. "Time for your patrol, and Tigerstar wishes to see you before you go."

Tinyclaw blinked. Pale light filtered into the warrior's den from the ceiling, and Tinyclaw could feel the warming air on his flanks. Dawn it was. He got to his paws and swallowed back the bad taste of sleep. "I'll be as quick as I can," he insisted.

Whitestorm nodded, and left him in the den alone with the sleeping cats. Tinyclaw gave himself a quick wash. _Redtail,_ he thought, _what were you doing? You've never done that to me before…_ The former deputy's behavior stung. What message had he been trying to deliver? Tinyclaw was unsure. _If only I could have caught him._

Tinyclaw gave himself a quick stretch, then gingerly padded around the sleeping bodies of cats. He tip-toed around Brindleface. The queen had returned to her life as a warrior now that Ashpaw and Fernpaw were apprentices. Tinyclaw pushed out into the clearing, his dream beginning to fade from memory.

The Clan seemed well. Longtail and Mousefur were waiting at the camp entrance, chatting quietly. Tinyclaw gave them a nod. His paws itched to patrol and wipe the rest of the dream from his mind, but Tigerstar needed to see him. Why, though, Tinyclaw wasn't sure. _Hopefully he's feeling better._ He headed around the Highrock and mewed his greeting through the lichen wall.

"Come in!" Tigerstar's cheerful reply made Tinyclaw's hope rise. Tinyclaw pushed his way through the lichen and into his den. Inside, Tigerstar was pacing the floor, his giant paws sending up puffs of sand. He did not stop when Tinyclaw entered, and Tinyclaw had to keep himself near the wall to stay out of his way.

He didn't stop to talk, either: "Tinyclaw, I must share dreams with StarClan. I must go to the Moonstone."

Tinyclaw blinked. The Moonstone? Well, he hadn't been expecting that. The Moonstone lay at the far boundaries of Clan territories, across the moors in a rocky cave where the sun set.

"That's a long way," Tinyclaw mewed, watching Tigerstar pace. It seemed like he was walking just fine, but Tinyclaw knew that Tigerstar hadn't been eating well, and sometimes old wounds still bothered even the strongest. "Are you up to it?"

Tigerstar stopped dead and narrowed his eyes at Tinyclaw. "I _must_ speak with StarClan!" he growled, low in his throat. "I am going, and you are coming with me. Whitestorm and Oakheart can take charge while we're gone."

Tinyclaw frowned at the intensity in his tone. He seemed more than serious about this, and Tinyclaw had a feeling that questioning him would not end well. Yet he had to wonder, "Just us?"

"Yes," Tigerstar hissed.

Tinyclaw swallowed. "What if we're attacked? We'd have to travel through WindClan territory to get there, and they're still upset with us."

Tigerstar's eyes blazed. "You would protect me, wouldn't you?"

"With my life!" Tinyclaw insisted. Tigerstar hardly needed protecting, but if they were ambushed by a patrol… Well, Tinyclaw would rather he go down than Tigerstar. "You mentioned yesterday though that ShadowClan and WindClan were still quite a threat, and -"

"Why are you trying to stop me?" Tigerstar roared, cutting Tinyclaw off. The entire den seemed to rumble with his frustration. "You _will_ come with me, or I will go myself!"

Tinyclaw swallowed. "I'll go," he meowed. _I certainly don't want you going alone,_ he thought grimly. _Not in this mood… and not if I can help it._

"Good. We leave now," Tigerstar growled. He loped past Tinyclaw. "I'll see Yellowfang about the herbs. Meet me there."

Tinyclaw opened his jaws to protest – what about the dawn patrol? – but Tigerstar was gone, the lichen flowing into place behind him. Tinyclaw sighed and padded out into the clearing. Longtail and Mousefur were still in place by the entrance, and they perked up as he approached.

"Finally," Longtail sighed.

"Sorry," Tinyclaw meowed apologetically. "You'll be leaving without me. Tigerstar wishes to travel to Highstones at StarClan's summons."

Mousefur's ears twitched. "Just you two?"

Tinyclaw nodded, ignoring Longtail's sneer. Thankfully, the pale tom said nothing.

"I could go with you," Mousefur offered. She glanced at the medicine cat's den, where Tigerstar had gone. "I know he's stronger than most, but he might still be weak from the rogues."

Tinyclaw frowned. She'd been tactful enough to not mention Bluefur, and how all of Tigerstar's wounds had come from her. Tinyclaw shook his head. "Sorry Mousefur; just us. But thanks for the offer."

Mousefur shrugged, but Longtail scoffed, "You think _you're_ enough to protect him, even if he needs protecting?"

Tinyclaw frowned deeply – but he was saved from having to answer by Whitestorm. "It's better that the two of them go alone," the white warrior meowed, striding up to the conversation. "They're less likely to appear as a raiding party to WindClan if there are only two traveling."

Longtail sniffed, but said nothing. To Whitestorm, Tinyclaw meowed, "We're leaving you and Oakheart in charge while we're gone."

"Oakheart is out with Fernpaw," Whitestorm mewed, "but I'll stay behind and take care of things until he gets back."

Tinyclaw nodded gratefully. To Mousefur, Tinyclaw meowed, "I'm sorry, again; but you can lead the patrol Mousefur. Take Thornpaw with you."

Mousefur nodded. Tinyclaw turned to the medicine cat's den. "I'd best be off," he meowed. "Good luck."

"To you, too," Whitestorm meowed.

Tinyclaw shivered. He'd need it, it seemed. Tinyclaw padded into the ferns enclosing the medicine cat's den. Inside, the den seemed more full than usual thanks to Tigerstar's impatient pacing. Yellowfang's eyes watched him calmly, though her twitching tail belied her irritation. Behind her, Brackenfur was mixing the herbs from piles scattered around his golden paws.

"I suppose you're going, too?" Yellowfang grunted as Tinyclaw slid into view.

Tinyclaw nodded. "Yes."

Yellowfang glanced back at Brackenfur. "Two piles, then," she grunted. "And separate them well!" Brackenfur nodded and bent back over his work.

Tigerstar was grumbling to himself as Tinyclaw slid past and settled near the medicine cats. Brackenfur was humming to himself, paws flicking over the herbs, but Yellowfang huffed with barely-concealed irritation.

"He's been like this since this morning," Tinyclaw guessed quietly. "He really wants to be off."

"Well, he can _stop_ making a mess of my den any time now," Yellowfang grumbled back.

Tigerstar, if he'd overhead, did not stop his pacing. Yellowfang's irritation was increasing, buzzing about her like a bee in Tinyclaw's ear. Quietly, Tinyclaw slid around to look at Brackenfur. The pale-colored tom didn't seem perturbed by Tigerstar's impatience, but he was clearly taking his time sorting the piles.

Tinyclaw's nose twitched. Each pile was more or less there, and Tinyclaw recognized the usual mixture… but one of the piles held a leaf he was not familiar with. He gave it a sniff.

"Chamomile," Brackenfur said very quietly, answering Tinyclaw's unspoken question. "To ease Tigerstar's nerves."

Tinyclaw swallowed. So they _had_ noticed. He pulled back.

"Are those done yet?" Yellowfang wondered sharply.

"Almost," Brackenfur replied. He fumbled with the leaves more, stuffing the chamomile someplace deep within Tigerstar's herb bundle so that it would be hidden from the Clan leader. He bundled it up and slid the leaf packet towards Yellowfang. "There."

Yellowfang nodded and grasped the packet in her jaws. Tigerstar had stopped pacing now, eyeing the herb bundle with impatience in his eyes. Tinyclaw sighed. Yellowfang and Tigerstar sat together, Yellowfang clearly ensuring that Tigerstar ate it all.

Brackenfur slid Tinyclaw's herbs towards him. Tinyclaw sighed and prepared himself for their foul taste, but he thanked Brackenfur regardless before hunkering down to chew. The leaves were sharp and bitter on his tongue, and his stomach churned, but he forced it down.

Before Tinyclaw was done swallowing, Tigerstar was up and on his paws. Tinyclaw cleared the last scraps of the herbs away, saying a hasty good-bye as he rushed to follow Tigerstar out of the medicine cat's den. A flash of frustration filled him. _Tigerstar really would go, with or without me!_

Tinyclaw caught up to Tigerstar in the clearing. By now, with the sun rising high, nearly every cat was awake. Willowpelt squeezed herself out of the nursery, stretching, but only twitching her whiskers at Tigerstar's determined stride. A few warriors were milling about, picking their breakfasts or deciding patrols with Whitestorm.

"Tinyclaw!"

Tinyclaw sighed. Cloudpaw had scampered up to him, her eyes wide. She was keeping pace, but Tinyclaw needed to be rid of her. Tigerstar did not seem to notice or care.

"Where are you going?" Cloudpaw wondered. "Can I come?"

"You have a pigeon to collect," Tinyclaw reminded her none-too-gently.

She scoffed. "Some owl's probably taken it," she grunted. "But can I come with you?"

Tinyclaw narrowed his eyes at her. Her blatant disrespect was not something he needed to deal with right now – not with Tigerstar charging off to Highstones through hostile territory. "Owls eat _live_ prey," he growled to Cloudpaw. _You'd know that if you listened to me._

Before Cloudpaw could protest, Tinyclaw called out, "Runningwind!"

Runningwind, just coming out of the warrior's den, looked to him blearily. Tinyclaw hated to do this, but he needed to get going – Tigerstar was slipping through the tunnel now. "Runningwind, will you take Cloudpaw hunting today?"

"… Sure," Runningwind grunted. The displeasure was clear on his face, and Tinyclaw sighed. Though they were friends, it was clear that did not extend to Cloudpaw. She had not been doing a good job earning the friendship and respect of those around her.

"Hunting?" Cloudpaw complained. "I went hunting _yesterday!"_

Tigerstar was outside camp now. Tinyclaw grunted impatiently, "And you'll hunt today, too!"

"But -"

"You're hunting with Runningwind!" Tinyclaw snapped. "Go!"

He didn't wait to see her reaction or reply. _If she can't listen to her mentor for once, StarClan help her._ Tinyclaw rushed through the tunnel after Tigerstar.


	7. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 _Tigerstar was well ahead by_ the time Tinyclaw had broken away from Cloudpaw. He scrambled to the top of the ravine, ignoring the stones digging into his pads. Tigerstar was padding through the undergrowth as if he'd never asked Tinyclaw to come along at all, too lost in his own thoughts to even really notice when Tinyclaw caught up, sides heaving.

 _He seems relaxed, at least,_ Tinyclaw thought, looking at his leader. _Much better than before._ Maybe all he needed was fresh air? Perhaps this trip to the Moonstone would help fix Tigerstar's problems. Tinyclaw hoped so.

Yet Tinyclaw had to suppress a comment at his leader's choice of direction – this was not the fastest way to Fourtrees. Tigerstar was padding towards the RiverClan border, and soon enough the river would be in sight. Tinyclaw tensed as the river came into view, glittering in the hot sunlight. The urge to jump in an cool off was surprisingly strong.

The river bent away, and Tigerstar led the way along the border. Tinyclaw felt a little disappointed – he had wondered, for a moment, if he might see Graystripe somewhere in his new home. Not that they could talk – but just seeing him would tell Tinyclaw that at least one of his friends was doing all right.

Briefly, Tinyclaw wondered if Tigerstar was hoping to see Graystripe, too – but then he recalled that yesterday Tigerstar had forgotten that Graystripe had even left ThunderClan. It didn't take much more thought to figure out who Tigerstar had been hoping to see – his own kits, by the old RiverClan queen Goldenflower. The two were born outside of Tigerstar's knowledge, and when Tinyclaw had figured out who their father was, a great weight had been lifted off of Tigerstar's shoulders.

 _He's taking a risk, though,_ Tinyclaw thought. _For one, the kits don't know he's their father… for another, if any cat catches us this close to the border, there's going to be trouble._ He tensed himself in preparation to make a quick escape.

His worries were not unfounded. On the other side of the border, the undergrowth swished with movement. Fresh RiverClan scent washed over him. Tinyclaw hissed, "Patrol!"

To his relief, Tigerstar listened. The big warrior veered off his current path immediately, and Tinyclaw followed. Instead of heading deeper and forgetting it had happened at all, though, Tigerstar lingered behind a clump of brambles. Tinyclaw suppressed a sigh and crouched down beside him.

Peering through the tangled bush, it was hard to make out who had padded out of the undergrowth on the other side – but a flash of tawny fur and the sheen of dark spots told him that it was Leopardfur, without a doubt. The RiverClan deputy's mottled coat was practically unique.

Leopardfur lingered near the border, but not for long. She hared away, back into the reeds, her belly low to the ground. Tigerstar lifted his head, grunting in what seemed like disappointment, then turned away.

"We should head deeper into our own territory," Tinyclaw offered evenly. He feared Tigerstar might snap at him and draw Leopardfur's attention if he'd suggested it any gentler.

Tigerstar only nodded and headed away from the border. Tinyclaw let out a small sigh of relief before following.

"She moves so loudly," Tigerstar grunted. "Leopardfur was too busy looking for a rabbit than scouting for enemies."

He seemed amused. Tinyclaw sighed and nodded – but despite Leopardfur's distraction, a slight change of the wind would have led them into deep trouble.

Tigerstar was looking up at the sunbeams that pierced through the leafy canopy. He sighed wistfully. "These days are like the day you came to us, Tinyclaw. Warm."

"You're right," Tinyclaw agreed. The heat on his pelt was more intense, but he would never forget the day he had bounded through these woods for the first time. "Has it really been that long?"

Tigerstar nodded only slightly. "I've never regretted taking you in," he meowed. "You were a fast learner, and you earned our respect quickly." He glanced over at Tinyclaw with pride in his eyes.

"Not only that, but each Clan has something to thank you for," Tigerstar went on. "You drove Brokentail out of ShadowClan, helped WindClan come home from exile, fed RiverClan when they were starving… and saved us from Bluefur." Tinyclaw's pelt prickled uneasily at the praise, but Tigerstar went on, "I've never met a cat with your sense of duty and loyalty and courage…"

Tinyclaw swallowed a lump forming in his throat. He did not like where this was going. "Every ThunderClan cat respects the warrior code as I do," he told him carefully. "Any of them would have done the same; any of them would lay down their lives for you or the Clan."

Tigerstar frowned and stopped in his tracks. Tinyclaw halted, too, in time to hear him growl: "It was _you_ who saved me from Bluefur! You were the only cat who dared oppose her!"

"I was the only one who _knew,"_ Tinyclaw reminded him.

" _Graystripe_ knew," Tigerstar snapped back. Resentment flashed in his eyes. "He did nothing!"

"Graystripe was…" Tinyclaw did not get the chance to finish. Tigerstar thrust himself onward, his paws slamming against the earth with his anger. Tinyclaw's heart ached, and he followed his leader. It was clear now that he needed far more than fresh air – the battle with Bluefur had shaken what faith and trust he had in his Clan.

 _He doesn't trust any of us except me… and perhaps Whitestorm,_ Tinyclaw thought. A pit of unease grew in his stomach. _What happened to him? What can I do to bring the old Tigerstar back?_

Though the world was hot and bright, it felt as if things were cold and dark. Tigerstar walked stiff, his tail fluffed in agitation. Tinyclaw hung back a pace, trying not to keep his tail low. What he wouldn't give for the strong, confident, Tigerstar back!

They reached Fourtrees, the sun bursting out through the opening in the leaves. Down into the little valley they went, passing the four great oaks and the Great Rock, where the Clans met for Gatherings, and soon enough they were up the other side.

The grassy hill grew steeper and rockier, wind howling up ahead. It took a moment for Tinyclaw to realize that he was ahead of Tigerstar. A quick look back showed him that Tigerstar was struggling to make it up, his limbs trembling at the steep climb. Tinyclaw turned back and kept pace with his leader. Each step seemed like a mountain to climb, and Tigerstar took each one slowly and carefully.

"Are you all right?" he asked when they were finally at the top.

Tigerstar had flopped down, wheezing. "Not… so… young," he admitted.

Tinyclaw sat beside his leader, waiting for Tigerstar to catch his breath. Where had this sudden weakness come from? Was it the heat? Tigerstar's pelt was thicker than Tinyclaw's, sure; but Tigerstar had always been able to make journeys like this seem like nothing. He was such a strong cat… if his wounds had healed, then what was making him slow down so suddenly?

Finally, Tigerstar heaved himself to his paws. Together, they padded out into the moorland. Now they were in WindClan territory – and WindClan was not exactly friendly at the moment. Brokentail had driven them from their home by force, and they were still not happy with ThunderClan for sheltering him.

"We need to be careful," Tinyclaw called to Tigerstar. The wind was howling hard today, blasting Tinyclaw's pelt with hot air.

"What?" Tigerstar wondered.

"I said, we need to be careful!" Tinyclaw roared back.

"Why?" Tigerstar wondered. "We're going to the Moonstone – WindClan cannot stop us!"

Tinyclaw swallowed his argument. It would not be worth it to have a shouting match with Tigerstar. They were on the last leg of their journey, and if they weren't caught this would all be over soon. "I'll lead the way," he offered instead.

Tigerstar voiced no objections. Tinyclaw took the lead. He knew the moorlands far better than any other ThunderClan warrior, thanks to his traveling them many times – to find WindClan, to see Ravenpaw, to go to the Moonstone himself… He and Graystripe could walk this place better than any ThunderClan cat should.

Stinky peat, gorse, and heather seemed to be all that the moorland had to offer. The grass was short and scrubby, the wind was almost deafening most days, and even the rabbits that WindClan cats were famous for hunting were scarce. The territory seemed to go on and on, but Tinyclaw knew that there was a Twoleg barn at the far end, and the Thunderpath bordering the other side. Beyond that Thunderpath was Highstones, with the Moonstone itself deep inside.

The sun was at its highest point now. Tinyclaw kept them close to patches of heather – the sweet scent would help mask their presence where high winds would bring all of WindClan out. It was a vain hope to be sure, but Tigerstar made no complaints.

Despite it all, a flick of Tigerstar's tail at his shoulder and the yowl that rose over the wind told Tinyclaw that they were not alone. Tinyclaw stopped and turned to find a small patrol of WindClan warriors racing towards them from behind, their eyes bright with anger.

Mudclaw, a dark-pelted and aggressive warrior, was at the patrol's head. He skidded to a stop before them and growled, "Intruders! What are you doing here?" His patrol fanned out behind him – Tornear, an older warrior and an apprentice - in a defensive line, and the way that Mudclaw's eyes flashed to and fro told Tinyclaw he was expecting more ThunderClan.

Tinyclaw did his best to stay calm. "We are only passing through to -"

"You are on _our_ land!" Mudclaw interrupted with a snarl.

 _Why ask if you won't let me answer?_ Tinyclaw wanted to spit – but these wiry cats had them outnumbered. It was not worth it.

Tigerstar's eyes were blazing with fury. "You cannot stop us!" he snarled. "We are on our way to Highstones! StarClan grants us safe passage."

Mudclaw did not seem perturbed. He snapped, "You gave up those rights when you sheltered Brokentail!"

Tinyclaw flinched, but he didn't let much of it show. WindClan would probably never get over that slight – the Clan who had brought them home, sheltering the one who had driven them out and hurt and killed so many. Whatever friendship between them that Tinyclaw had helped foster was most likely gone now, for good.

"Brokentail is dead," Tinyclaw told Mudclaw evenly. "There is no need for this."

" _You_ killed him?" Mudclaw questioned, eyes glittering.

Tinyclaw sighed and wished he'd said nothing. Tigerstar stepped up and growled back, "Brokentail died of his own doing. ThunderClan are not murderers."

"Of course not," Mudclaw sneered. "You just _shelter_ them." He arched his back, teeth bared.

Tinyclaw's mind whirled. What could he do? Was there a way to convince him?

Before Tinyclaw could think of any ideas, Tigerstar thrust himself forward. His huge, hooked claws were unsheathed, his amber eyes a forest fire. At his full height, Tigerstar was twice the size of the skinny WindClan cats. The growl in his throat was thunderous.

"You _will_ let us pass!"


	8. Chapter 6

**Things are going to be bit busy over the next few weeks. I've been having very little motivation to write, so this will probably be all that gets posted until things calm down. I'll do my best to work on BoT as well. Please be patient.**

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

" _StarClan grants us safe passage,"_ Tigerstar snarled again, baring his teeth.

To his credit, Mudclaw only flinched a little. "Go home!" he insisted.

Tinyclaw swallowed. A quick glance told him that they were outnumbered. Tinyclaw might be able to take down one or two, but they would swarm Tigerstar – and in his state, who knew how well he could fight anymore? He was on his last life – something only he and Tinyclaw knew – and Tinyclaw did not want to think about him losing it here.

"This isn't worth it," he decided resignedly. Tigerstar swung his head around, his eyes narrowed in disbelief. Tinyclaw implored, "They aren't going to let us pass, Tigerstar; and this isn't a fight we could win – not that we should have to."

"I _have_ to speak to StarClan," Tigerstar snarled.

The wind blasted against their pelts. "We're too far from safety," Tinyclaw insisted. _Please, see reason!_ "If we needed help in this fight, neither of us could make it back in time."

It took a moment for Tigerstar to sigh and sheathe his claws. He unbent his back and grunted. "Fine," he decided. "We will go." His eyes flashed up to Mudclaw, full of fire and anger. "But we _will_ return – it is not within your rights to cut us off from StarClan!"

Mudclaw twitched at that, but he meowed, "A wise choice."

Tinyclaw narrowed his ice-blue eyes. This time, Mudclaw _did_ flinch. "Shut up," Tinyclaw snapped. "You know full well that whatever we've done, you have _no_ right to force us back. We _will_ return, and you won't stop us then."

Mudclaw did not speak, his whiskers twitching furiously. Tornear stepped up and offered, "We will escort you to Fourtrees."

It was less of an offer and more of a decision made without consent. Tinyclaw knew that they weren't even that far from Fourtrees, and that they were capable of walking themselves – but Tornear and Mudclaw and the rest of the patrol surrounded Tinyclaw and Tigerstar. Yet Tigerstar let out a warning growl and pushed his way through them, his huge shoulders forcing through. The WindClan cats made no move to stop him, and Tinyclaw followed. The patrol kept pace – at a short distance.

They reached Fourtrees soon, and as Tinyclaw and Tigerstar clambered down the slope and into the forest, the WindClan watchers made no move to follow. Their lithe, brown shapes flitted back into the moorland, leaving the ThunderClan cats on their own in their own territory.

When they reached the floor of the small valley, Tigerstar was panting. His limbs were trembling with effort, and his eyes were wide with dismay. Tinyclaw made sure the WindClan cats were gone before brushing against his leader's side.

"StarClan doesn't want to see me," he moaned. Tinyclaw's heart ached – he sounded so defeated. "They sent WindClan to bar my way… Why are they so angry with me?"

Tinyclaw swallowed. _My naming broke ceremony for the first time in memory,_ he thought, recalling the elder's words. _Could that really be the reason why StarClan is ignoring him? Could they be so petty?_

He swallowed his words. What would he do – what _could_ he do? – if StarClan were really angry with ThunderClan?

* * *

"What's the meaning of this?" Dustpelt wondered incredulously.

Tinyclaw sighed. His was just one of the questions asked as Tinyclaw and Tigerstar made their way back into camp. Tigerstar answered no queries – only staggered to his den to rest, leaving Tinyclaw with a wave of worry and confusion. This was the first time in their memories that someone had been turned away from the Moonstone.

"WindClan stopped us," Tinyclaw explained.

"And you didn't tell them where you were going?" Longtail snarled. From his tone, it seemed as if he were scolding a kit.

Tinyclaw flattened his ears. "Of _course_ I did – they stopped us all the same." Quickly, he recounted what had happened. The gathered warriors recoiled in shock – how could WindClan do such a thing?

"How dare they!" Willowpelt hissed from the back.

"I'd have clouted them!" Longtail added. His striped tail lashed. "How could you let them boss you around?"

Tinyclaw flicked his tail in irritation. "We were outnumbered," he reminded Longtail frankly. "Would _you_ have risked your leader's safety?"

That shut Longtail up. Tinyclaw sighed. The Clan was buzzing, but there wasn't much he could do about it. When the gorse tunnel twitched, heralding Oakheart and Fernpaw, his new apprentice, Tinyclaw was saved from more explanations by Dustpelt. When they were done, Dustpelt signaled for Ashpaw, and the four cats headed out again.

Tinyclaw frowned. He looked about at the gathered cats, and then sighed again. "Has anyone seen Cloudpaw?" he wondered.

"I was wondering if _you'd_ seen her," Runningwind sighed. He looked irritated. "We were to go hunting after I'd washed, but when I was done she was gone! Swiftpaw said she'd gone hunting by herself."

Tinyclaw sighed a third time. _Cloudpaw!_ He snapped to himself. _You little…_ "I'm sorry, Runningwind," he offered, trying to keep his cool. "I'll have a word with her when we find her."

Runningwind's irritation did not lift – Tinyclaw suspected his friend wanted some words with Cloudpaw himself. Who didn't, these days? Cloudpaw's disobedience was beginning to become a nuisance, and Tinyclaw didn't know how much more the Clan could take of it.

As he was about to apologize again, Tinyclaw groaned at the sight of Cloudpaw marching through the gorse tunnel. In her jaws was a squirrel as big as she was – and she was clearly happy about it. She marched it to the fresh-kill pile, then padded off to the apprentice's den. From the way she'd ignored the pile itself, Tinyclaw had a sinking feeling she'd eaten on her hunt.

"I'll handle this," Tinyclaw growled. This time, Runningwind did not seem skeptical – the lean tom got to his paws and walked away.

Tinyclaw rose himself and padded towards Cloudpaw. To some relief, she approached when he called her name. Aware of Runningwind's eyes on him from across the camp, he growled quietly, "You ate while you were out, didn't you?"

Cloudpaw shrugged. "I was hungry," she meowed.

Tinyclaw lashed his tail. "Can you tell me what the warrior code says about eating before the Clan is fed?"

She sighed. "I _can't,_ right? Just like I can't do anything else?"

Tinyclaw resisted the urge to dig his claws into the dirt. How could one cat be so frustrating? "I suppose you didn't fetch that pigeon, either?"

Cloudpaw blinked. A moment later, she insisted, "It was gone."

He swallowed, realizing that he wasn't sure if he believed her. He stamped down the urge to scent her pelt, to see if the pigeon was what she'd eaten on her hunt. No use pursuing that and causing a riot. "Why didn't you hunt with Runningwind, like I _ordered_?"

"He was taking too long," Cloudpaw sniffed. "I could have caught a ton of prey on my own – I do better that way."

Tinyclaw tried to push away his growing frustration. "You are still an apprentice," he told her as evenly as he could manage. "Apprentices hunt with warriors to supervise them; to give them advice and help perfect their skills. You'd do much better with a warrior for guidance."

She huffed and nodded, "Fine, Tinyclaw."

Tinyclaw had a feeling his words were going in one ear and out the other. A growl in his throat, he snapped, "You won't be so nonchalant if you carry on like this! How do you think you'll feel when Ashpaw and Fernpaw get their warrior names, and you're still a 'paw? Because that's what will happen if you keep carrying on like no one ought to care what you're up to!"

Cloudpaw's eyes widened incredulously. "That'll _never_ happen!" she snapped back, tail fluffing.

"Oh?" Tinyclaw wondered. "Well, one thing's for certain – _you'll_ be staying behind while _Ashpaw and Fernpaw_ go to the Gathering!"

Cloudpaw's entire body fluffed now. "Y-You can't do that!" she spat. "You -!"

Tinyclaw narrowed his eyes. "I am _deputy_ of this Clan, Cloudpaw," he growled at her. She jolted, as if she'd forgotten. "And when what you've done today is reported to Tigerstar, I can _guarantee_ he will agree."

"But -" Her eyes were pools of misery.

Tinyclaw had none of it. "You'll be missing a lot more than Gatherings if you don't learn some respect from those who worked to earn it themselves!" he roared back, interrupting her. "Now, go make yourself useful!"

Cloudpaw turned away, plunging into the apprentice's den. The other apprentices stared at Tinyclaw, eyes wide in shock. Tinyclaw didn't care. He didn't care if the whole Clan had overheard; right now he was more worried, more fearful, of the fact that Cloudpaw might never be a warrior – and that it would be his fault.


	9. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

" _Tigerstar, it's been a quarter-_ moon since we came back from the uplands," Tinyclaw meowed. He was careful not to mention the Moonstone – it seemed that just thinking about the incident made Tigerstar irate and irritable. "There has been no sign of WindClan or ShadowClan on our territory – or even RiverClan, for that matter." Tigerstar frowned, narrowing his eyes at Tinyclaw. Tinyclaw went on regardless: "The woods are full of prey, and we have so many apprentices in training that it's hard to keep three warriors in camp at all times. I think two would be plenty."

"And if we are attacked again?" Tigerstar wondered, his voice low and dangerous.

Tinyclaw frowned. "Tigerstar, if any of the Clans bore us hostility, I don't think Mudclaw would have let us leave the uplands." _Alive,_ he added silently. That patrol could have easily ended them both, right then and there on the windswept hill.

"Fine," Tigerstar decided. His eyes were clouded and unreadable. "Only two warriors need to stay in camp."

"Thank you, Tigerstar." Tinyclaw tried not to let his relief show too much – only having to keep two warriors in camp now would make sorting patrols, hunting parties, apprentice training, and so much more a lot easier. "I'll go handle tomorrow's patrols."

He dipped his head and padded outside the den.

Almost immediately he was met with a curious crowd of warriors, all wondering what to do. Tinyclaw raised his tail for silence – got it – and took a deep breath. "Whitestorm, you lead the dawn patrol," he ordered. "Take Sandstorm and Ashpaw. Cinderpelt, Dustpelt, you'll guard the camp while I'm hunting with Cloudpaw." Tinyclaw saw Cinderpelt and Dustpelt glance at one another, then look away. He ignored it – their dispute was not his worry.

Tinyclaw swept on, feeling confident. He'd had a lot of practice handling the warriors and arranging things while Tigerstar spent most of his time in his den. Being deputy was getting easier. The thought was unsettling, and he swept it aside. "I'll leave it up to the rest of you whether you want to train your apprentices or take them hunting – but I want the fresh-kill pile as high as it is today. This weather has been fantastic, and we're all getting used to eating so well." An amused purr ran through the crowd.

"Runningwind, you lead tomorrow's sunhigh patrol," Tinyclaw went on. "Oakheart, you take sunset. You can choose who to take with you, just make sure they're informed."

Runningwind nodded in agreement, and so did Oakheart – but it was the older warrior who wondered, "Any word on who will be going to the Gathering tonight?"

Tinyclaw shook his head. "No idea," he admitted.

Longtail lashed his tail from just behind Oakheart. "Didn't Tigerstar tell you?" he wondered irritably. "Hasn't he decided yet?"

"He hasn't discussed it with me," Tinyclaw meowed firmly. "He will when he's decided and ready."

"He'd better tell us soon," Cinderpelt admitted. She was looking up, at the darkening sky. "Sunset is coming." Beside her, Dustpelt let out a grudging mutter of agreement.

"Then you all should eat," Tinyclaw suggested. "You'll need your strength for the Gathering, if you're chosen to go." A murmur of agreement settled in the crowd – only Longtail and Dustpelt looked irritated, but that was nothing new from either. The crowd melted away to their duties – but Tinyclaw did not get to his paws until the last was gone. He turned around and slipped back around to Tigerstar's den.

 _Tigerstar didn't mention the Gathering,_ he thought to himself. _I was too worried about organizing patrols to ask. Did he forget?_ The thought was unsettling. Something had to truly, deeply be wrong with Tigerstar if he forgot about _Gatherings._

"Ah, Tinyclaw," Tigerstar mewed, his tone surprised. Tinyclaw drew up at the lichen protecting Tigerstar's den, startled to see his leader just poking his head out, as if he meant to go outside himself. Tinyclaw stepped back and allowed Tigerstar room. Tigerstar stepped out into the dusk light, his pelt looking freshly-groomed for the first time in a while. "When you've eaten, bring together the warriors for the Gathering."

Tinyclaw swallowed. "Um… who shall I call?" he asked.

Tigerstar blinked. Then, he began listing names – it seemed so easy, so normal, and he hadn't forgotten a thing. Cloudpaw was not going, but Fernpaw and Ashpaw were. It came out so well that Tinyclaw wondered if Tigerstar had already told him, but that he'd just forgotten.

"Of course, Tigerstar," he meowed when Tigerstar was done, dipping his head. He turned away and headed for the fresh-kill pile.

There were some nice pieces left, but Tinyclaw left them for Tigerstar. The fat pigeon or the juicy-looking mouse might tempt him to eat more than one or two mouthfuls, and Tinyclaw was too unsettled by his leader's shifting moods to be very hungry. He picked up a vole and went on his way, heading towards his favorite eating place.

A prickle of unease crawled down his spine. Tinyclaw looked back, and saw that, just outside the nursery, Oakheart was eating with his kits bouncing around him and begging for a meal themselves. Only one was not pestering their father – Mistykit. She was looking straight at Tinyclaw.

Tinyclaw swallowed. Those blue eyes were hard to miss. He forced himself to nod at her and then look away, and to remember Brackenfur's words: _They won't see the world the same way Bluefur did._ He took his meal over to the nettle clump to eat.

When he was finished, he settled himself to wash and look about at the camp. With the days being hot and getting hotter, it seemed like dusk was now the prime time for sharing tongues. With Tinyclaw's own black pelt, he partially wished he could swim like RiverClan – the water must still be cold. In the cool shadows the ThunderClan cats were gathered, chatting and talking as if nothing bad had ever happened to them at all. He glanced over at the apprentice's den, wondering if Cloudpaw had forgotten she wasn't going to the Gathering.

She was there, wrestling with Ashpaw around the tree stump. Tinyclaw looked at the stump fondly, memories of his apprenticeship flooding over him – Cloudpaw seemed to at least be getting along with her denmates, and that was a good thing. Seeing that image, and thinking about his own apprenticeship, made Tinyclaw wonder if Graystripe would be at the Gathering tonight.

 _Unlikely,_ he told himself. _He's had barely a moon to get into RiverClan's good graces, and with Leopardfur as deputy I doubt he'll get far._ Tinyclaw didn't even know what Crookedstar – the father of Graystripe's mate, Silverstream – thought of the whole affair. Obviously Graystripe had been accepted, or perhaps Tinyclaw's good friend might have come back to ThunderClan. Even though it would mean that Graystripe was truly RiverClan, Tinyclaw still wished he might be there.

Tinyclaw pushed himself to his paws. The sun was sinking, and cats were growing impatient. He called together those Tigerstar had listed for the Gathering party – "Mousefur, Runningwind, Sandstorm, Cinderpelt, Swiftpaw, Ashpaw, Fernpaw, and Brightpaw!" Each cat clustered around him, and Tinyclaw realized that some cats seemed deliberately missing – Longtail and Dustpelt. Both had been working hard, but both had been very close to Bluefur and Darkstripe. Has Tigerstar left them out deliberately?

Yet the two didn't seem to see any hard feelings in it. Dustpelt only grunted when Cinderpelt told him that she'd tell him all about it, and Longtail offered congratulations to his apprentice Brightpaw, who looked nervous. Together, all the chosen cats waited near the camp entrance to wait for Tigerstar.

Tigerstar was sharing tongues with Whitestorm, seemingly unaware of the setting sun and the growing impatience of the Gathering party. There were mutters of being late, and Tinyclaw was about to get to his paws to get Tigerstar when the large tabby tom got to his paws and said good-bye to Whitestorm. As if he had intended to linger, Tigerstar joined them with all his confidence.

"Whitestorm will be in charge of the camp while we are gone," he announced.

"Tigerstar," Mousefur was very cautious. "What will you say to WindClan about barring your way to Highstones?"

Tinyclaw's shoulders tensed. Mousefur wanted to know if she ought to expect hostility from WindClan – but Tinyclaw wasn't sure if she would expect to get it from Tigerstar.

Yet his worries eased. Tigerstar seemed relaxed as he replied, "I will say nothing. They know that what they did was wrong. It's not worth disrupting the Gathering truce to point that out to them again."

The party agreed with somewhat reluctant nods. Tinyclaw didn't know if they saw wisdom or weakness in Tigerstar's words – but they followed him regardless as he led the way out of the camp and into the woods.

Tinyclaw squinted against sprayed dirt dust and pebbles as the party scrambled up the ravine. No rain had left the forest dry as a bleached bone, and it seemed like even the leaves were ready to crumble at a moment's notice. Once the whole group was up the ravine, Tigerstar went on ahead into the woods, and Tinyclaw kept back with the others as they raced silently through the trees.

Sandstorm matched his pace, catching up to him easily and matching him stride for stride. In an instant, Tinyclaw knew she could catch up to Tigerstar and be back before he knew it. "Tigerstar seems to be feeling well," she commented quietly.

"Yes," Tinyclaw agreed guardedly. He concentrated hard on not catching half his pelt in a bramble thicket.

"Yet he seems… distant," Sandstorm went on, her voice too low to carry. "He's not as…" Tinyclaw worried what she might say next. It was inevitable that the Clan would notice the changes in their leader – albeit a bit more slowly than he did.

"He's not himself," Sandstorm decided.

Tinyclaw didn't look at her. His worst fears were starting to come to life – the Clan _was_ beginning to notice, more and more, and a clearer picture was being built in their minds. The moment they realized that Tigerstar was truly _not_ himself, Tinyclaw had no clue what would happen.

"He's still very shaken," Tinyclaw reminded her. "Bluefur's treachery was a shock."

Sandstorm frowned. "I don't understand why he never suspected her," she grunted.

"Did _you_ suspect her, before you knew what she did?" Tinyclaw countered frankly.

Sandstorm's tail fluffed, flustered. "Of course not," she admitted. "Sorry."

"He's taking us to the Gathering," Tinyclaw told her reassuringly. "It'll take some time, but he's still the same Tigerstar – you'll see."

They quickened their pace. Tinyclaw was painfully aware of how easily Sandstorm could outpace him, but was deliberately choosing to stay by his side. He was grateful for her presence as they leaped in fluid unison across a streambed – dry now, with the lack of rain. He decided to change the subject.

"Cinderpelt and Dustpelt have been hanging out a lot," he mentioned. "What's going on with that?"

Sandstorm threw him a dry look. "How should I know?" she wondered. "Is it a crime for two cats to talk or hunt together?"

"I just thought you would know, since you…" He trailed off.

Sandstorm frowned. "Since we're friends?" she finished.

Tinyclaw nodded.

Just when he thought she would snap at him, Sandstorm's eyes sparkled. "Dustpelt and I might be friends, but I've no control over who he spends his free time with. If he wants to hang out with Cinderpelt, and _she_ wants to hang out with _him,_ that's none of my – or _your_ – business."

They crashed through dried ferns. Fourtrees was just ahead. Tinyclaw chuckled, "I just find it strange, seeing as how Dustpelt is as prickly as a hedgehog!"

Sandstorm laughed, too. "You'll have to talk to Cinderpelt, I think," she decided. "I mean, if you _really_ want to get into that."

She allowed him to take the lead as the chatter quieted down and Fourtrees loomed up ahead. Tigerstar was just ahead of them, at the top of the slope that led into their side of the valley. He stood beside her as the rest of the Gathering party crowded around. Down below, moonlight sparkled into the hollow, glowing against the pelts of the Gathered cats. It seemed that ThunderClan was the last to arrive.

He looked at Tigerstar. The big tabby cat was looking at the Great Rock. Tinyclaw saw a small shudder roll down his spine. Tigerstar took a deep breath, then raised his tail. He and his cats plunged down into Fourtrees.

Tinyclaw kept his pace slow, looking about. The RiverClan cats had scattered amongst the others, but Tinyclaw had a feeling he could pick out Graystripe anywhere. Leopardfur, RiverClan's deputy, was chatting with a ShadowClan warrior he didn't know, and Crookedstar and Brambleclaw were silently watching over the clearing with hawk-like eyes. There were other RiverClan cats he both recognized and didn't, but as a ShadowClan apprentice made his way over to talk with Brightpaw, Tinyclaw sighed with disappointment. Graystripe was not here.

With one ear, Tinyclaw decided to listen to the ShadowClan apprentice and Brightpaw. They greeted one another not as enemies, but temporary allies. Then, the ShadowClan cat asked, "Have you seen any sign of those rogues anywhere? Nightstar still thinks they might be roaming around."

Tinyclaw's spine stiffened – those rogues were the ones who had attacked the ThunderClan camp at Bluefur's behest - but he relaxed as Brightpaw answered smoothly, "We've not scented them in our territory for a moon."

A RiverClan cat had joined them, nodding in agreement. "We've not seen them, either," they admitted. "Those rogues must be long gone by now."

Tinyclaw's throat was dry. _I wish I could believe that,_ he thought. _But knowing Bluefur, she – and those rogues – are still around somewhere._

To the side, Tinyclaw spotted Mudclaw and another WindClan warrior, Onewhisker, sitting together. Once, Tinyclaw would have gone to speak with Onewhisker – they had become friends since Tinyclaw had help bring WindClan home – but Tinyclaw didn't dare to even make eye contact now. There was no point in stirring up hostilities.

Yet it seemed like Mudclaw wanted to try something. Tinyclaw flexed his claws as Mudclaw looked at him deliberately, then leaned in to mutter something into Onewhisker's ear with a grin. Onewhisker, however, gave Tinyclaw a sympathetic look. Leaving Mudclaw annoyed, Onewhisker got to his paws and left his Clanmate alone in the crowd.

Tinyclaw swallowed a chuckle. _No, that wouldn't help anything,_ he told himself. Yet seeing Mudclaw looking so annoyed made Tinyclaw feel a lot better about the whole situation. At least it seemed that there were some cats who remembered that ThunderClan had come to their aid when they were living beneath a Thunderpath. He stalked past them and headed for the head of the crowd, where the deputies took their places.

His confidence began to evaporate when he spotted Leopardfur. She was sitting with a ShadowClan warrior, talking. Even though she and Tinyclaw were equals in terms of Clan hierarchy, he knew she was a fierce and commanding she-cat. Ever since a small spat between ThunderClan and RiverClan near the gorge had resulted in the death of one of her warriors, Leopardfur had nothing but contempt for ThunderClan – especially Graystripe, who had been fighting the warrior who fell. Despite how she must hate Graystripe, Tinyclaw needed to know how his friend was doing. He dipped his head in greeting, and Leopardfur returned the gesture.

The ShadowClan cat tried – but his greeting was cut off by a bout of coughing. Tinyclaw and Leopardfur both stepped back in a mix of shock and disgust, and for the first time Tinyclaw noticed how ragged and thin the ShadowClan cats seemed. This one in particular had his ribs showing with every cough.

Embarrassed, the ShadowClan warrior stumbled away. Tinyclaw frowned after him, but Leopardfur merely began grooming herself. "Was… was he all right?" Tinyclaw wondered.

"Did he _look_ all right?" Leopardfur wondered sharply. She seemed disgusted – but not with Tinyclaw. "Cats shouldn't come to Gatherings riddled with sickness and disease."

"Is there anything we can do?" Tinyclaw asked.

Leopardfur shrugged. "Don't know," she meowed. "It's none of our business, at any rate. ShadowClan has a medicine cat."

Tinyclaw frowned. He supposed that was true.

Leopardfur's eyes glittered with curiosity, her disgust at ShadowClan gone now. She looked him over. "I hear you are ThunderClan's new deputy," she meowed. Tinyclaw wondered for a moment how she'd known – but then he recalled that Graystripe must have said something. "What happened to Bluefur? No one seems to know. Is she dead?"

Tinyclaw flicked his tail uncomfortably. Of course Leopardfur might waste no time in chatting about how ThunderClan had replaced a distinguished deputy with a kittypet – she seemed like just that type of cat. "What happened to Bluefur is none of your concern, or RiverClan's," he meowed, easily matching her cool tone. _Will Tigerstar tell the truth of what happened?_ He wondered privately. The other Clans had to be wondering by now.

Leopardfur narrowed her eyes, but she didn't press. "So," she meowed, "did you come to brag about your new title or did you come to ask about your friend?"

Tinyclaw swallowed. Here she was, giving him a clear chance to ask after Graystripe. He nodded and wondered, "How is he?"

"He'll do," Leopardfur decided. "He's getting used to the water, but his fishing could use some work. It's always a hard thing to pick up. He's trying, and that's more than I expected." She idly drew a paw over her ear. "Silverstream is recovering, and she can nurse again. The kits seem to take after her."

Tinyclaw rolled his eyes. She was clearly trying to annoy him on purpose. He kept back a sharp reply as Mousefur came forward to join them.

"Hello, Leopardfur," Mousefur meowed coolly. "I hear there are new kits in RiverClan, aside from Graystripe's."

Leopardfur's eyes flashed with pride. "Yes," she confirmed. "StarClan has blessed our nursery this greenleaf."

Mousefur smirked and went on, "And aren't Tawnypelt's kits almost ready to be apprentices? You know, the ones that Tinyclaw and Graystripe saved from the floods last leaf-bare?"

Leopardfur stiffened. Tinyclaw did not miss the mischief in Mousefur's eye, or the thoughts in his own mind of Tawnypelt and Brambleclaw. He glanced up at Tigerstar, who was settling on the Great Rock. Did he know his kits were here? Was he looking for them? The thought passed, but by then Leopardfur had already whipped around and began stalking away.

"Don't worry," Mousefur chuckled, glancing at Tinyclaw with sympathy. "You'll find her less intimidating the more you get used to her. It drives her wild." She smiled. "The rest of RiverClan are more than happy to see us – you helped them during the floods, after all, and Silverstream and her kits are alive because of us."

"Graystripe hasn't been Leopardfur's favorite warrior though," Tinyclaw offered. "Not since Whiteclaw fell into the gorge."

Mousefur shrugged. "That wasn't Graystripe's fault – Leopardfur needs to learn to forgive and forget. Graystripe helped feed them when they were starving, and because of him Crookedstar has a safe daughter and two healthy grandkits. Don't mind me, but I think that's a good reason to pull your tail out of your backside." She drew a paw over her ear. "Did she ask about Bluefur?"

"Yes," Tinyclaw admitted.

" _Everyone_ is wondering," Mousefur explained.

"And I suppose everyone is also wondering why a _kittypet_ replaced her?"

"That too," Mousefur agreed. "Don't take it personally, Tinyclaw – we'd be just as curious about a sudden change in deputy in another Clan." Her eyes wandered, and then she mentioned, "Have you seen how small ShadowClan's patrol is tonight?"

"Yes," Tinyclaw meowed. "They seem… off."

"Sick, is more like it," Mousefur grunted. "They shouldn't have come if they can't say a few words without losing the rest of their breath in a coughing fit."

"Isn't it hairball season?" Tinyclaw wondered.

Mousefur frowned. "I suppose so."

A call came down from the Great Rock. All talking ceased, and all eyes turned upwards to Crookedstar, who had called out. He was standing atop the Great Rock now, shoulder-to-shoulder with Tigerstar. Both big cats were flanked by Tallstar and Nightstar, two smaller and slimmer cats and the leaders of WindClan and ShadowClan.

Tinyclaw could not take his eyes off of Nightstar. The sleek black tom was sleek no more – and he looked just as thin and ragged as the rest of his Clan. He was avoiding every eye, and even standing not-so-prominently on the Great Rock, as if he feared he might rub his illness off on every cat. _Can furball season really do that to a cat?_ ShadowClan pelts were not particularly thick.

"Come on," Mousefur meowed quietly. Tinyclaw followed her to the head of the crowd, where they sat down together. Tawnypelt was sitting at his other flank, and she gave Tinyclaw a small mew of greeting, which he returned.

Crookedstar moved on the Great Rock. "Tigerstar wishes to speak first," he meowed. The pale cat stepped back, and Tigerstar pushed forward, his amber eyes scanning the whole clearing. He raised his voice, sounding as strong as he ever did:

"You may have heard from WindClan, but if you have not – Brokentail is dead!"

A grateful murmur rippled through the crowd. No cat seemed to care how it'd happened – except Nightstar, who was flicking his tail excitedly.

"How did he die?" Nightstar rasped. His eyes glowed bright.

But Tigerstar swept on, ignoring him: "ThunderClan has a new deputy!"

"So it's true what Riverclan's been saying!" a WindClan cat in the crowd meowed, shocked. "Something has happened to Bluefur!"

"Is she dead, too?" Mudclaw demanded. Suddenly the entire crowd was a volley of concerned cries, all wondering what had happened to Bluefur. Tinyclaw trembled. _They don't know,_ he told himself. _They don't know what she did to us. What she_ wanted _to do to us. But… but how can they all be so ignorant?_ Bluefur had been a warrior respected by all the Clans, and the combined cries and demands to know her fate were almost too much for someone who knew what she'd _really_ been like.

"Did she die of sickness?"

"An accident?"

"Did Brokentail do it?"

Mousefur stiffened beside him, and Tinyclaw sensed that every ThunderClan cat was tensed – even Tigerstar, for a moment, faltered and looked unwilling to go on. No cat was willing to talk about what had happened.

Finally, Tigerstar roared, "Bluefur's fate is ThunderClan's business, and ThunderClan's business alone!"

Tinyclaw swallowed. The Clans fell into a disgruntled muttering, their curiosity clearly unsatisfied. Tigerstar's eyes burned into each and every one of them, daring some cat to say something. No one did. Tinyclaw frowned, wondering if Tigerstar ought to have just told the truth – that Bluefur and Darkstripe were dangerous, and possibly leading a band of rogues in Clan territory.

Yet she didn't say a thing more about it. Instead, she merely stated, "Tinyclaw is the new deputy of ThunderClan."

Dozens of heads whipped about to look directly at Tinyclaw. Suddenly, he was the center of attention, and silence spread through the Gathering like a storm front. His paws kneaded the earth. He was more than painfully aware of the silence, of the breathing, and of every eye centered unblinkingly on him.


	10. Chapter 8

**Early update due to business tomorrow. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

 _Loud meows of alarm and_ the thundering of paws woke Tinyclaw. He narrowed his eyes against the glare of the sun streaming in through the leaves of the warrior's den.

A head as golden as the sunlight – somehow prettier, though – poked through the leaves. It was Sandstorm, her green eyes gleaming like leaves. "We've captured two ShadowClan warriors!" she exclaimed, clearly excited.

Tinyclaw sat up immediately. His sleepiness melted away like ice under flame. "What? Where?"

"By the Owl Tree," Sandstorm explained. Her excitement turned to scorn only briefly as she added, "They were _asleep!"_

"Does Tigerstar know?" Tinyclaw wondered.

"Dustpelt is telling him now," Sandstorm answered. She ducked out of the warrior's den as Tinyclaw surged out into the sunshine. His sudden movement woke Runningwind, who had been sleeping nearby.

Tinyclaw had slept in fits and starts since the Gathering, filled with anxiety over the silence at the announcement of his new position. His dreams were full of cats recoiling in fear at his presence, as if he were some walking bad omen sent to destroy them all. Tinyclaw hoped that no other cats would ever find out about the broken naming ritual – not only would that shame him, but it would make ThunderClan look extremely weak.

 _But how will I deal with this?_ He wondered. He'd never had to deal with enemy warriors on his territory before. Tigerstar would make the final decision, but his opinion mattered. _This could mean a lot, especially in the eyes of the other Clans._

The dawn patrol was gathered in the center of the clearing, surrounding their prisoners protectively. Tinyclaw squeezed his way through them to look at the ShadowClan warriors.

Immediately, Tinyclaw recognized one of them – Littlecloud, a small brown tabby. They had met at Tinyclaw's first Gathering, when Brokentail ruled ShadowClan. Littlecloud had been little more than a kit then, too small to even stand even with Tinyclaw, who hadn't grown all that much past kithood himself. Now Littlecloud was fully grown, but still smaller than the average cat.

With him was a black and white tom that Tinyclaw didn't recognize. The white dash on his chest was distinctive, and he was cowering with Littlecloud. With a twinge of unease, Tinyclaw decided that these warriors weren't much to be afraid of – they were boney, stinky, and clearly underfed. The illness that had plagued ShadowClan at the Gathering was still with them, it seemed, and Tinyclaw took a cautious step back.

"Did they put up a fight?" Tinyclaw wondered to Whitestorm, who had led the dawn patrol.

Whitestorm's face was filled with confusion. He flicked his tail and admitted, "No. They begged us to take them with us back to camp. Begged!" The white warrior was clearly befuddled.

Tinyclaw frowned. Looking at the ShadowClan cats, he didn't doubt that they had begged. In the state they were in now, they weren't much of a threat to anyone. "Why?" he wondered. "Why would they beg?"

Before Whitestorm could guess, a commanding tone cut through the clearing, bringing silence: "Where are these ShadowClan warriors?" Tigerstar roared. Tinyclaw turned to see the great tabby tom padded around the Highrock. Tinyclaw belly twisted – Tigerstar was _not_ happy.

Tigerstar leered at Littlecloud and his companion. "Is this some sort of _attack?"_ he snarled.

Quickly, Tinyclaw offered, "Whitestorm found them on patrol – they were sleeping on our territory."

"Sleeping?" Tigerstar repeated. His ears were flat against his head. His confusion faded like mist. "Have we been invaded, or not?"

"These were the only cats we found," Whitestorm assured him.

"Are you _sure?"_ Tigerstar growled.

Tinyclaw sighed inwardly. He believed Whitestorm, but it seemed like suspicion was clouding Tigerstar's judgment at the moment. One look at Littlecloud and the other cat would practically shout that invasion was the last thing on their minds – but despite where it was coming from, Tigerstar had a point. It was smart to make sure this wasn't some sort of elaborate ruse. He beckoned Mousefur and Dustpelt over with a flick of his tail. "Take a warrior and an apprentice each, then split up and search the territory from the Thunderpath to the ravine. Make sure there's no sign of ShadowClan anywhere."

They obeyed instantly. Mousefur called Runningwind and Ashpaw, while Dustpelt rallied Cinderpelt and Brightpaw. Together they headed out of camp.

Turning back to the captives, Tinyclaw wondered, "What are you doing here?" They only trembled. "Littlecloud – what do you want?"

As if calling his name made him pay attention, the small tabby turned to look at Tinyclaw. Pity stabbed though Tinyclaw as he looked into those round, begging eyes. He looked as helpless as a nursing kit without his mother.

"W-Whitethroat and I c-came here hoping you'd g-give us food and… and herbs," Littlecloud managed. His voice was weak, rasping. Begging.

Yet the gathered ThunderClan cats hissed in disbelief. Littlecloud shrank up against his companion, and Whitethroat let out a whimper. Tinyclaw only stared in amazement – since when would any ShadowClan cat admit to needing help from anyone else, let alone _beg_ for it?

"Tinyclaw, wait," Brackenfur meowed. Tinyclaw had barely noticed that the medicine cat was by his side. Brackenfur eyed the ShadowClan cats, then insisted, "These cats are no threat to us. They're sick." He limped forward and gently nudged Littlecloud's pad with his nose. He pulled up, tail fluffed. "His pad is _blazing._ His fever is -"

"Get _away_ from them!"

Tinyclaw was displaced as Yellowfang forced her way through the crowd. She grasped Brackenfur's scruff in her jaws and dragged her apprentice away from the ShadowClan cats by force, her orange eyes blazing with fury and… worry?

"Why?" Brackenfur demanded when Yellowfang finally set him down a tail-length away. "These cats are sick!"

Tinyclaw glanced at Tigerstar. The entire Clan was staring wide-eyed at the ShadowClan cats, but it wouldn't be long before they looked to Tigerstar. Unfortunately, Tigerstar's eyes were the widest, and in them Tinyclaw could see him battling with worry and fear and anxiety, trying to take in all that was happening. Tinyclaw stepped forward before any cat could ask, hoping he could give Tigerstar some time to collect himself.

"Why us?" Tinyclaw wondered loudly. "Why not go to another Clan?"

It was Whitethroat who spoke, his voice trembling with fear. "You helped ShadowClan before," he meowed. "W-When we drove out Brokentail."

 _But we sheltered Brokentail not long after,_ he thought. Had Whitethroat and Littlecloud forgotten? _No, they couldn't have._ Brokentail had forced both of these cats into apprenticeship when they were far from six moons old. To them, banishing Brokentail must have been a divine feat – something that couldn't be overridden in their eyes. Brokentail was dead now, and they knew that. There were no threats from ThunderClan beyond Clan rivalry.

Whitethroat went on, "We hoped you'd be able to help us now that Nightstar is sick, t-too." He seemed to be gaining traction in his voice as he spoke on. "The whole c-camp is in chaos with so many sick. There aren't enough h-herbs or fresh-kill to go around."

"What's Runningnose _doing?_ He's your medicine cat – it's his job to tend you!" Yellowfang spat. Her eyes were flaming suns of fury and indignation.

Tinyclaw was taken aback by her tone. Yellowfang was formerly from ShadowClan – and she had often shown lingering fondness and care towards her Clanmates, even though she was ThunderClan now. Where was this bitterness coming from?

"Nightstar seemed all right at the last Gathering," Longtail commented.

Tigerstar narrowed his eyes. "Yes," he meowed suspiciously. "He did."

Yet Tinyclaw recalled differently. Nightstar had been extremely frail at the Gathering, barely able to raise his voice loud enough when it came time for him to speak. Littlecloud confirmed his thoughts: "He got worse when he returned to camp. The trip was hard on him, and Runningnose was with him all night, and he's stayed there since! Runningnose let a kit die at their mother's belly without even a poppy seed to ease them to StarClan!" His voice was a desperate plea. _"Please,_ help us!"

Tinyclaw swallowed. _There is no lie in that plea,_ he though for certain. He glanced at Tigerstar and saw only more bewilderment.

"They _must_ leave," Yellowfang growled.

"What?" Tinyclaw spat in surprise. He rounded on her. "Why? They're no threat to us in this state!"

Yellowfang's eyes narrowed. "They are more of a threat than you realize," she replied seriously. Tinyclaw swallowed. Yellowfang got to her paws and began circling the ShadowClan cats at a decent distance. "They carry a disease I've seen before in ShadowClan. It killed many cats last time."

"It's not greencough?" Tinyclaw asked. At Yellowfang's words, the ThunderClan cats edged a fox-length away from the intruders. A worried murmur spread through them.

"It has no name," Yellowfang meowed. Her eyes were fixed on Littlecloud and Whitethroat. "It comes from the rats that live in Carrionplace, on the edge of ShadowClan's territory." She glared at Littlecloud. "The elders ought to know – Runningnose ought to know – never to bring those rats back as prey!"

Littlecloud shivered. "It was an apprentice," he explained. "He was t-too young to know!"

There was silence. The sick cat's labored breathing filled the air until Tinyclaw could take it no more. To Tigerstar, he asked, "What do we do now?"

Yellowfang spoke up before Tigerstar could answer: "Tigerstar, it had not been long since greencough ravaged our Clan. You lost a life then." Yellowfang's narrowed eyes betrayed her reasoning. Only Tinyclaw and Yellowfang knew that Tigerstar was on his last life – if he lost it to this disease, ThunderClan would be leaderless. The thought turned Tinyclaw's blood to ice.

Tigerstar was expressionless. "You are right," he agreed. "They cannot stay here. Tinyclaw, send them away." He got to his paws and turned back towards his den.

Tinyclaw sighed. His relief was tempered by pity – was there really nothing they could do? Brackenfur looked incredulous, his eyes wide. Tinyclaw sighed again and announced, "Sandstorm and I will escort the ShadowClan warriors to the border."

At least the Clan sighed with relief at that. The other cats began to spread out, huddling in their usual groups. The talking was at a minimum, and one eye was trained on the captives. Only Brackenfur and Yellowfang remained with the captives and their escort.

"Please," Brackenfur pleaded, "let me help them!"

Yellowfang did not look at her apprentice. "Come," she growled. "We must wash the sickness from your muzzle."

Brackenfur lashed his tail. "Yellowfang, I -"

Yellowfang glared at him. "Unless you want nettle in the mixture, you shut your mouth!" she hissed. Brackenfur closed his jaws, a sullen look in his eye. Yellowfang practically pushed him away towards her tunnel. Tinyclaw swallowed nervously. _Tigerstar's orders are law,_ he thought. _I'm sorry, Brackenfur._

Tinyclaw glanced at Sandstorm, and was relieved to see her eyes filled with sadness. He was glad she understood the ShadowClan cat's need for help as much as Brackenfur or Tinyclaw did – but he knew she would also understand the struggle to keep compassion from exposing the Clan to illness.

"Let's go," she meowed softly. "The sooner they're off our territory, the better."

"Alright," Tinyclaw agreed. He did his best not to be swayed by the fear and sorrow in Littlecloud's eyes. "The Thunderpath is busy this time of year. We'll help you cross."

"No need," Littlecloud whispered in reply. "But thank you."

"We'll take you there anyway," Tinyclaw insisted. He flicked his tail. "Let's go."

The ShadowClan warriors heaved themselves to their paws. Sandstorm and Tinyclaw flanked them as they left the camp and began climbing the ravine. The ShadowClan cats fell behind, their breath desperate gasps – and Tinyclaw forced himself not to look at their scrambling. When Littlecloud and Whitethroat had made it, they continued on.

The walk was quiet aside from the captive's labored breathing, and warm from the harsh sunlight. The forest was full to bursting with activity, and between the trees Tinyclaw could see a multitude of prey going about their lives. Tinyclaw glanced at the ShadowClan cats – no reaction.

Sighing, Tinyclaw shot off. A mouse was just too close to pass up, and too unaware to feel Tinyclaw's jaws sinking into its spine. Tinyclaw padded back to the group and laid the mouse at the ShadowClan warrior's paws. They took it and split it between them, nibbling slowly.

Sandstorm frowned. Tinyclaw shrugged and meowed, "They can't possible spread their illness by eating. Besides, they'll need their strength across the Thunderpath."

She only tossed her head. Whitethroat and Littlecloud rose from their barely-eaten prey, looking ill, and turned into a bush to retch. Sandstorm wrinkled her muzzle. "What a waste," she muttered.

Tinyclaw sighed and patted earth over the partially-eaten fresh-kill. No one would dare eat that now. When the ShadowClan cats were done, the trip continued.

The smell of the Thunderpath wafted through the trees before the sight or sound of the monsters gave any indication. The edge of the trees stopped abruptly here, leaving a large space of oily grass before the stony path that stretched like a river through the forest. ShadowClan territory lay on the other side. Tinyclaw stopped the patrol as a monster roared past, whipping up a nasty breeze in its wake.

"I know you don't want our help," Sandstorm offered, "but we'll guide you across." Tinyclaw nodded in agreement. These cats needed to get across safely, especially when they could barely walk straight. Why they wouldn't leave ThunderClan territory was a mystery.

"We'll cross alone," Littlecloud offered. "Just leave us here."

Tinyclaw frowned. This was too suspicious to ignore, yet these cats posed no threat to ThunderClan. Something wasn't right here. "All right," he offered. "Go on." Sandstorm threw him a look, but Tinyclaw flicked his tail. She sat down.

Littlecloud nodded, and he and Whitethroat disappeared into the ferns.

"Are we going to -" Sandstorm began.

"Follow them?" Tinyclaw finished. He glanced at Sandstorm with a wry smirk at the spark in her eye. "Of course."

The two waited until the sounds of ShadowClan cats were gone – and then they followed. The two kept low to the ground, their pawsteps silent and smooth. They followed the two sickly cats as they made their way through the woods, just skimming the Thunderpath, towards Fourtrees.

"This isn't going to get them across," Sandstorm hissed into his ear.

Tinyclaw nodded in agreement. This path was something strange, that was for sure. "Perhaps they're going the way they came?"

The two kept silent as suddenly, just before Fourtrees lay beneath them, the ShadowClan cat's path took a sharp turn. The cats began walking all the way around Fourtrees, before veering off again towards the Thunderpath. Tinyclaw and Sandstorm followed in confusion and curiosity. Where were they headed?

Finally the woods opened up. Tinyclaw and Sandstorm kept themselves back, in the bushes. From the smells, this place was an odd mix-up of borders – WindClan was just ahead, and faint ShadowClan smell drifted towards them. Yet the strangest thing of all was the Thunderpath itself.

It was right near them, just a paw-step away. Tinyclaw had to almost pull Sandstorm back before she padded onto it. Monsters roared by in packs, buffeting the air and mixing the smells – yet the sick cats' stench was unmistakable.

"Where did they go?" Sandstorm hissed, her pelt on end.

Tinyclaw looked around. They certainly hadn't crossed, which meant they were still on ThunderClan territory. Just as he was about to give up, a gap in the monsters gave way to the sound of something rustling not far off. Tinyclaw flicked Sandstorm's flank with his tail and the two followed the sound.

The ground sloped down underneath their paws at a sharp incline that made the hill more dirt than grass. Thick brambles and weeds and ferns choked the gully, but Tinyclaw could just barely make out the white tip of Whitethroat's tail as he and Littlecloud navigated the path expertly. The smell of ShadowClan was faint, but thick here.

Whitethroat's tail abruptly disappeared just as a monster roared by on the Thunderpath. Tinyclaw waited until it was gone before beginning to search the area again.

There was nothing much here, however. The plants were dry and smelly from the Thunderpath, and the ground felt as if it might at one point hold a little water. Yet the gully being here was strange, especially when all the land near the Thunderpath was smooth and flattened. Tinyclaw and Sandstorm kept quiet as they followed the sick cats' trail.

"What in StarClan?" Sandstorm gasped.

She and Tinyclaw stopped. Before them was a great stone-lined tunnel – and it had swallowed the ShadowClan cats whole.


	11. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

" _Where could they have gone?"_ Tinyclaw wondered.

"The only thing we can do is find out," Sandstorm suggested. "Unless you want to leave."

Tinyclaw shook his head. "Of course not," he told her. Sandstorm didn't bother waiting for his reply – she was already trotting towards the hole. Tinyclaw swallowed, staring at the blackness. His paws trembled. _StarClan, help me!_

The tunnel was lined with pale cream Twoleg stone, about two cats high. Moss grew on its sides, and the ground obviously ran with water at some points in the year – right now, though, Twoleg rubbish littered its sides. Tinyclaw flicked his tail uncomfortably. He'd never felt right in small spaces like these tunnels – it felt as if the walls were closing in around him.

Yet he couldn't show any fear in front of Sandstorm – he didn't dare. He followed behind her as they padded down the slope and to the entrance of the dark, damp tunnel. Thankfully, Sandstorm didn't walk in – from the scents, it was clear that this is where the ShadowClan cats had gone.

"Have you ever seen this place before?" she wondered.

Tinyclaw shook his head. "No," he replied, swallowing again. A monster roared on the Thunderpath overhead, rattling the earth. He peered down the tunnel, to the point of light that was its end. It didn't seem to go very far, but regardless – on the other side was ShadowClan territory.

"This must be their way to Fourtrees," Tinyclaw realized. "Using this, they wouldn't have to cross the Thunderpath." Tinyclaw didn't dare mention that ShadowClan must also use the tunnel for crossing into other Clan's territories. He didn't want to think of how Brokentail had used this tunnel, during his time as ShadowClan's leader.

Sandstorm sniffed. "No wonder Littlecloud wanted to be left alone," she grunted. "This must be a ShadowClan secret!"

"We should tell Tigerstar," Tinyclaw decided. "Let's head back."

Sandstorm didn't seem eager to stay. Together, they hared back into the trees. Sandstorm kept pace with him, and Tinyclaw couldn't help but feel relief as they crossed ThunderClan scent lines. The tunnel meant danger – but the weak scent of ShadowClan told him that this sickness really was bad, if they couldn't even keep up proper border patrols.

* * *

Tinyclaw was hot and tired when he returned, too breathless to bother talking to anyone else. He headed straight for Tigerstar's den, calling out to his leader before being invited in.

"Yes?" Tigerstar wondered. The den in the Highrock barely sheltered from the heat of the day, and it was stifling in here. Tigerstar looked comfortable, though, his paws tucked under his chest. He looked levelly at Tinyclaw.

"We found a tunnel into ShadowClan territory," Tinyclaw reported. "It leads under the Thunderpath."

Tigerstar's eyes narrowed. "I hope you didn't follow it," he grumbled.

Tinyclaw swallowed, taken aback. That he wasn't excited at the news was startling. Any leader would be grateful to know of a place like this. Tinyclaw meowed, "Of course not."

"You took too much risk being there at all," Tigerstar went on. "We can't afford any trouble with ShadowClan."

Tinyclaw frowned. "Tigerstar," he reasoned frankly, "I don't think we'd get a lot of trouble from ShadowClan if we walked right up to their camp and marked our territory there. This sickness is clearly wearing on them."

"I want no antagonizing," Tigerstar grunted. His eyes were hard. "Understand?"

"Of course," Tinyclaw offered. "I was only stating my thoughts."

Tigerstar's muzzle worked, as if he had a piece of fresh-kill caught in his great teeth. "Are the ShadowClan cats gone?" he asked.

"Yes," Tinyclaw replied. "That's how we found the tunnel."

"I see," Tigerstar mused distantly.

Tinyclaw swallowed. Tigerstar's eyes showed no hints of compassion, only their now-usual emptiness. Didn't he care at all about ShadowClan's sickness? "Did we do the right thing, sending them away?" Tinyclaw wondered.

"Of course!" Tigerstar insisted, his neck fur ruffling. "We don't want sickness in the camp again."

"No," Tinyclaw agreed heavily, "we don't."

He turned to go – but Tigerstar's voice stopped him: "Don't tell anyone about the tunnel just yet, Tinyclaw," he asked.

Tinyclaw agreed; then left the den. Why keep it a secret? Awareness of the tunnel would make patrolling more effective, and should any cat need to go to ShadowClan territory it would be safer than the Thunderpath. Surely such a thing could only be a tactical advantage? Tinyclaw sighed outside of the Highrock.

"What did he say?" Sandstorm wondered. Tinyclaw hid a flinch of surprise – he hadn't noticed she'd dashed up to him. "Was he excited?"

"He said not to say anything about it for now," Tinyclaw told her dimly.

Sandstorm's ears pricked in surprise. "Why?" she wondered.

Tinyclaw opened his jaws, but he had no answer for her, as Tigerstar hadn't explained himself. He only shrugged, and then padded towards the warrior's den. Sandstorm followed, keeping pace well, with concern in her voice. "Are you OK? Is it Tigerstar?" she wondered quietly. "Are you in trouble?"

Cursing himself, Tinyclaw realized that he had let slip his anxieties, even if he hadn't said anything. He lifted his head and sighed, putting on a more confident air. Forcing brightness into his tone, he said, "There's nothing more, no – I need to go. I promised Cloudpaw I'd hunt with her this afternoon."

Sandstorm's eyes flashed. Her tone wavered only a little: "D-Do you want me to come with you?" She was still clearly concerned. Tinyclaw swallowed at the offer, trying not to leap to say yes. Sandstorm went on, "It'd be fun! We haven't been hunting together for ages."

She glanced at Cloudpaw, who was lying out in the sun beside the apprentice's den. Her belly rose and fell in the heat. Sandstorm commented, "It looks like she could certainly use the exercise – she's getting to look like Willowpelt! She must be quite the hunter."

Tinyclaw stared at his apprentice. She _was_ larger than normal, even for greenleaf. Frustration boiled in his pelt. What was she doing? What was she thinking? No matter how much he wanted to hunt with Sandstorm by his side, Tinyclaw shook his head. He couldn't let her see how frustrated he was with his niece.

"I've been neglecting her lately," he reasoned. "We should go alone. Can we hunt together another time? Just us?"

Sandstorm's eyes glimmered. "Of course," she mewed. She turned away, making sure to flick Tinyclaw's muzzle with her tail before chuckling, "I'll catch you a rabbit, like last time… unless you've learned how to do it yourself…"

Tinyclaw swallowed, glancing back as she padded away. A warm, happy feeling prickled his paws as he recalled the snowy patrol that seemed like ages ago – just the two of them, in the cold quiet, finally getting along. He pushed the memory away before it distracted him further. Cloudpaw needed to be dealt with.

He padded over to Cloudpaw. The sleepy apprentice stretched and yawned, her legs quivering, before looking up at her mentor with bleary eyes.

"Have you been out of camp today?" Tinyclaw wondered. _Don't needle her,_ he told himself. _It won't do any good._

"No," Cloudpaw replied, not meeting Tinyclaw's eyes.

"We're going hunting," Tinyclaw decided. He looked over Cloudpaw's form and suppressed a wince. She _was_ large – not so large as Willowpelt, but clearly overfed, even in greenleaf. There was no way she had earned the right to eat that much prey. "You must be hungry."

"Not really," Cloudpaw replied softly.

Tinyclaw flicked his tail in frustration. Did she think she could just lie about and do nothing all day? Did she forget that even apprentices had duties, or was she too busy stealing from the fresh-kill pile, and the cats who had earned their meals? "Well then," Tinyclaw decided tautly, "we'll start in the training hollow. Maybe working on your fighting moves will give you an appetite."

He gave her no chance to object. He was turned around and padding out of camp before she had even registered what he'd said, and one glance back before entering the thorn tunnel told him that she was wobbling to her sleepy paws. Tinyclaw didn't look back after that, nor did he slow his pace – not until he was up the ravine and in the training hollow.

Cloudpaw thumped after him, moving at her best pace – but Tinyclaw did not let her rest. When she slid down into the training hollow, her pelt clinging with dust, Tinyclaw ordered, "Attack me."

"What?" Cloudpaw mewed incredulously. "Just that like?"

"Yes," Tinyclaw told her. "I am an enemy warrior, invading your territory. Attack me."

Cloudpaw nodded and took a deep breath. The, she charged. Her paws sank easily in the soft sand, and Tinyclaw had plenty of time to simply get to his paws and move out of her way. Cloudpaw skidded to a stop in the sand, panting and puffing.

"Too slow," Tinyclaw meowed. His nose wrinkled at the dust and sand rising in the air. "Try again."

Cloudpaw got to her paws and faced him. This time she was crouched properly, her blue eyes staring intently. It seemed as if she was finally giving her attack some sort of thought. When she leaped, she flew at Tinyclaw, her body twisting so that she might kick out Tinyclaw's legs as she landed.

Tinyclaw kept his balance well, then swept to the side and clouted Cloudpaw with one paw. She stumbled on her landing and wobbled onto her side. "A good effort," Tinyclaw decided, "but you broadcast your attacks too easily. Next time – Cloudpaw?"

She lay still on the ground, not moving. She was breathing, but… had his strike hurt her? Tinyclaw hadn't meant to. "Cloudpaw?" he asked. Her ear twitched.

Tinyclaw approached her cautiously – this could be a trick, or she might be seriously hurt. Yet when he looked over her, he saw that one of her eyes was wide open, and she looked to be in no real pain.

"You've killed me!" she gasped. Then, she rolled onto her back, flailing her paws feebly.

Tinyclaw snorted, narrowing his eyes. "Stop fooling around!" he growled. "This is serious!"

"Alright, alright," Cloudpaw sighed. She got to her paws, shaking out her thick coat of dust. "But… I'm hungry now. Can we hunt?"

Tinyclaw frowned. Already? Yet he looked at her puffing, and she seemed genuinely tired. _I really must have been neglecting her battle training if that attack took all her breath from her._ He wanted to argue, but he recalled Whitestorm telling him that she would learn when she was ready. _Arguing has been a waste of time so far,_ Tinyclaw thought. _Letting her go at her own pace might work better._

"Come, then," Tinyclaw decided. Together, they padded out of the training hollow and into the woods.

It wasn't long before Cloudpaw stopped and meowed, "I smell a rabbit." Tinyclaw took a sniff and realized she was right – not far away, a white tail was bobbing in the ferns. Tinyclaw nodded to Cloudpaw – she could catch it.

She dropped into a crouch, her belly bulging against the earth. The rabbit twitched, then hared off – but Cloudpaw charged after it, her paws thudding through the woods. Tinyclaw's tail bristled in disbelief, and he followed at a slower pace, watching the white patches of Cloudpaw's pelt dart from bush to bush. Finally, Cloudpaw stopped chasing.

"It got away," she puffed, disappointment in her tone.

Tinyclaw frowned. "Coudpaw, what's gotten into you?" he demanded. This time, he had to know. "You hunted better when you were kit, in the middle of leaf-bare!" He recalled that snowstorm vividly, Cloudpaw returning to camp defiantly with an ice-crusted vole between her jaws. Then she had the makings of a fine warrior, but now? "It's a wonder you've gotten so well-fed hunting like this. You _know_ rabbits can't be outpaced – you need to cut them off!"

Cloudpaw sighed. Tinyclaw was glad Sandstorm hadn't come. What would she think if she'd seen this spectacle? Yet Tinyclaw forced himself to lose most of his frustration – Cloudpaw looked upset. She really had tried to catch that rabbit.

She didn't argue. "Sorry," she muttered. Tinyclaw swallowed. _Have I really let her down?_ He wondered. _I've been so busy…_

"Can I… Can't I just hunt on my own?" Cloudpaw wondered. Her voice was still low. "I do a lot better that way."

Tinyclaw frowned, studying her. She wasn't meeting his eyes, and she was scuffling her paws. Her belly gurgled. _She can't' be a bad hunter all the time,_ he reasoned. _Not looking like that…_ In a breath, he resolved to follow her. There had to be something he was missing. "Very well," he agreed. "But be careful; and be back by mealtime."

Cloudpaw's eyes lit up. She raised her tail. "Thanks!" she purred. "I won't let you down!"

Tinyclaw watched her turn away and bundle through the woods at an easy pace. He felt a prickle of guilt at plotting to follow her, but he needed answers. He needed all the help training her as he could get. They were kin, but she never tried doing anything but arguing with him. She was well and gone before Tinyclaw followed.

Tracking Cloudpaw through Tallpines was easy – her bright white, fluffy tail gave her position away. Tinyclaw kept himself at a safe distance. The woods here were thick with wildlife and birds – rich pickings, but Cloudpaw took no part in it. She padded on, and Tinyclaw's stomach clenched with worry.

Her pace was surprisingly swift, considering her belly – she carried on through the oaks and pines, oblivious to the teeming prey all around her. She carried on until the trees abruptly stopped, and Tinyclaw frowned as she padded into the open field behind Twolegplace.

 _Is she visiting Fiona?_ Tinyclaw wondered. He kept his side against the Twoleg fences as he followed her. She was ahead, still oblivious. _Why didn't she say anything?_ Yet Cloudpaw passed right by Fiona's fence. Tinyclaw swallowed and followed.

Cloudpaw ignored every prey-scent that crossed her path until she reached a tall birch, far along from Fiona's home. She pulled herself up claw-by-claw, having a little difficulty with her swaying belly. She perched upon a branch for a moment – Tinyclaw pressed himself against the shadow of a fence, hoping his black pelt would shield him – before she leaped down into the Twoleg garden below.

Tinyclaw frowned and followed. He pulled himself up the birch she'd climbed, and tried to ignore the fact that her scent was layered on this tree several times over. He pulled himself onto a higher branch and looked down, his claws digging into the soft wood.

Cloudpaw was trotting through the garden, tail high. Birds hopped away from her, but she made no move to catch them. Tinyclaw wished she'd at least try, even if it would make Dustpelt's jeering true. Yet Cloudpaw continued up the yard until she was climbing up the Twoleg's back porch and sitting before their door.

Tinyclaw willed her to turn away – what in StarClan was she _doing?_ – but that will drained as Cloudpaw began letting out a shrill, pitiful wail.


	12. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

 _Tinyclaw held his breath. He_ wished with all his heart that Cloudpaw would turn away, would stalk one of those tiny birds hopping in the garden. Anything but this! But Cloudpaw remained, and the Twoleg door opened.

The Twoleg didn't shoo her away, either – they leaned down and ran a hand along Cloudpaw's back, and Cloudpaw purred loud enough to be heard in the trees. She slinked around the hand, let out a little mew, and was picked up and taken inside.

Tinyclaw felt sick. Cloudpaw was tempted back into the life that Tinyclaw had left behind – that Tinyclaw had taken her from. _Was I completely wrong about her this whole time?_ He wondered. He tried to think of the signs – could he have seen them before this? He lost himself in his whirling thoughts – and only the chill of oncoming evening brought him out of it. Swallowing, he slid down the tree.

Paws on the ground, he began following his own scent trail back into the woods. He padded along the Twoleg fences, his mind buzzing like a hornet's nest. He felt so betrayed, and yet… _It's hard to be upset,_ he admitted grimly to himself. _Cloudpaw was given away to the Clan before she had a voice to say anything about it._ Was it really right to begrudge her for this?

A familiar scent crossed his path – Fiona. Tinyclaw halted, frowning. His paws had brought him deliberately to her fence, it seemed, and she was about. Tinyclaw swallowed. No, he had no intention of talking about Cloudpaw right now – there was no way he could, without betraying his disappointment in his brother's daughter. Fiona would be heartbroken – or worse, angry. He headed to Tallpines.

Fate seemed to wish to be cruel. "Tinyclaw!" Fiona's voice called.

Tinyclaw froze, then turned. Fiona was right behind him, her eyes wide with shock. Her pure white fur was freshly groomed, soft as a feather. Her eyes rounded with worry. "I haven't seen you for _ages,_ " she mewed. "I haven't seen Cloudpaw, either. Are you both all right?"

"E-Everything's fine," Tinyclaw replied tersely. His shoulders felt like stone. Here he was, lying right to her face! _Nothing is fine!_ He screeched. _I've failed my only kin!_

Fiona didn't appear to catch on to the lie. She sighed, and touched her nose to his in greeting. Her kittypet smell, all soft and safe, stirred memories of Tinyclaw's old life. "I was starting to worry," she admitted. "I keep smelling Cloudpaw around, but she hasn't been by to visit. I suppose you're keeping her too busy." She paused to smile proudly. "Last time you mentioned how proud of her you were, and how hard Cloudpaw was working."

Her eyes were shining. _She wants her daughter to have a great future, just like I do,_ Tinyclaw thought. "She… She shows great promise," he offered.

"I know," Fiona sighed. "She's my only daughter. I _know_ she'll be special." Her eyes darkened. "I miss her, but I know how happy she must be."

"All your kits are special in their own way," Tinyclaw assured her. _You gave me your only daughter, and your sacrifice was a waste._ He needed to leave this conversation, before he missed a word in the wrong place. He insisted, "I must go."

"Already?" Fiona tilted her head. Then, she shrugged. "Very well. Bring Cloudpaw next time you come around, all right? I'll see if I can't get Rusty to be there, too."

Tinyclaw nodded. He turned away from Fiona. He didn't want to go back to camp. It felt as if he couldn't even walk straight as he headed into Tallpines. It felt as if the chasm between Clan and kittypet had opened up before him, and he was right on the edge.

Tinyclaw took the long way back to camp, trying to use the familiar surroundings and the greenness of the forest to calm himself. It didn't seem to be working. As he reached the ravine, he found himself missing Graystripe more than anything. Without him, it seemed like his thoughts would only fester.

"Hey!" Sandstorm offered. She padded out of the ravine just below, her eyes bright. She must have been hunting, and caught his scent. "How was training? Where's Cloudpaw?"

He swallowed. Sandstorm's sharp orange face stared back, but her green eyes were soft with worry. Tinyclaw knew deep down that he could tell her _anything._ "Are you alone?" he wondered.

Sandstorm nodded. "I was going to do a bit of hunting before mealtime," she replied. "Why?"

Tinyclaw frowned. It seemed to be enough – Sandstorm bounded up the ravine and settled beside him, pressing her pelt against his. She said nothing, but only looked his way sympathetically. Tinyclaw was more than grateful for her presence – and how well she seemed to be able to read him.

He took a deep breath. "Sandstorm…" he began.

"Yes?" she wondered.

"Did I make the right choice, bringing Cloudpaw to the Clan?"

For a moment, Sandstorm looked flabbergasted – but she smoothed her features. She took a moment to think, but when she finally spoke she was smooth and careful and honest. "When I saw her today, outside the apprentice's den… I thought she looked more like a kittypet than a Clan warrior. Yet… I couldn't help but remember last leaf-bare, when she went out all on her own to catch a vole. She was so unafraid, and proud of what she did – a Clan cat, through and through."

"So you think I made the right choice?" Tinyclaw wondered hopefully.

Sandstorm frowned. "I think only time will tell," she stated.

Tinyclaw swallowed. This wasn't what he'd hoped for – but she was right.

Sandstorm wondered, "Is everything all right? Has something happened to Cloudpaw?"

"I saw her go into a Twoleg nest this afternoon," Tinyclaw confessed flatly. "I think she has been letting them feed her for some time."

"Does she… know you followed her?"

"No."

"Then you should tell her," Sandstorm decided. "Cloudpaw needs to decide where she belongs. It's been long enough now."

"But what if she decides to go back?" Tinyclaw's voice was a whisper. "To Twolegplace? To being a kittypet?" He hadn't realized until today how much he wanted Cloudpaw to stay in ThunderClan – not just for him, or to prove that kittypets were just as capable as Clan cats; but for the fact that Cloudpaw had so much to gain. She had so much to give, and so much to receive in return. How could she throw it all away?

"It's her decision," Sandstorm told him gently.

"If I was a better mentor -"

"It's not your fault," Sandstorm interrupted. "You can't change what's in her heart."

Tinyclaw let out a hopeless noise.

"Just talk to her," Sandstorm urged gently. "Find out what _she_ wants. Let her decide for herself." Her eyes were round with sympathy, and Tinyclaw wanted nothing more than to curl up with her and wail. But she was right, and she nudged him gently. "Go find her."

Tinyclaw nodded. He wanted to thank her – but she was already down the ravine and loping into the trees. Tinyclaw shut his jaws. The thanks would have to wait. He turned himself into the woods and towards the training hollow, hoping Cloudpaw might be simply retracing her steps.

He plunked himself down in the middle of the hollow as the sun sank beneath the trees. He didn't want to confront Cloudpaw like this – but Sandstorm was right. Cloudpaw was old enough now to know what she wanted, it was time she decided. There was no living with a paw in both worlds – Tinyclaw knew that. It was time Cloudpaw learned it, too.

Long shadows stretched over the sandy hollow, and the air was beginning to lose a hint of its warmth. Tinyclaw was about to wonder whether Cloudpaw had taken a different way home when she pushed her way through the bushes and into the hollow before him, a tiny shrew in her jaws that dropped to her paws when she spotted Tinyclaw.

"What are you doing here?" she wondered. Tinyclaw heard reproach in her voice – she clearly hadn't wanted to encounter him again. "I told you I'd be back by mealtime. Don't you trust me?"

Tinyclaw swallowed. It hurt to say, "No."

Cloudpaw looked hurt, her head tipped to one side. "I said I'd be back," she protested, "and I am."

"I saw you," Tinyclaw said frankly.

"Saw me where?"

"I saw you go into that Twoleg nest," Tinyclaw meowed.

"So?"

Tinyclaw froze. She looked so unconcerned, even offended that this was even something to be brought up. Did she not understand what she was doing? Tinyclaw struggled to keep his voice level. "You were supposed to be hunting for the Clan."

"I did," Cloudpaw replied, nodding to the shrew.

"And how many cats will that feed?"

"I won't take any tonight. I'm not hungry anyway."

"Only because you're stuffed full with kittypet _slop!"_ Tinyclaw roared.

Cloudpaw flinched, her eyes wide at the sudden shift in his tone.

"Why did you come back at all?" Tinyclaw demanded, narrowing his ice-blue eyes at her.

Cloudpaw's whole body was fluffed. "W-What's the problem?" she wondered. Her voice shook. "I w-was only visiting the Twolegs for food!"

"You _still_ don't understand," Tinyclaw seethed. "After all this time, you _still don't get it._ " He sank his claws into the sandy earth to keep from boxing her ears. "I'm starting to wonder if it was right of me to bring you here."

"Well you did it!" Cloudpaw countered. "You're stuck with me now!"

"I may be stuck with you as an apprentice, but I can keep you from becoming a warrior!" Tinyclaw snapped. He didn't want to say that he could simply put her out of camp, cast her away from the Clan. No. He wanted to give her a chance – some chance – to bring herself around. Besides, even if he wanted to, Tinyclaw didn't think he could bring himself to say it.

Cloudpaw's eyes flew wide. "Y-You can't!" she sputtered. "You won't! I'll be such a great fighter, you'll _have_ to make me a warrior!"

"How many times must I tell you?" Tinyclaw demanded. "There is far more to being a warrior than hunting or fighting – you have to know what you're hunting and fighting _for!"_

"For survival!" Cloudpaw meowed. "Like the rest of you!"

Tinyclaw lashed his tail. "Not at all!" he countered. "Warriors hunt for the livelihood of the Clan – we _fight_ to protect the Clan! The Clan. Comes. _First."_

"Then I'll fight for the Clan, if that's what it takes!" Cloudpaw decided. "It's all the same in the end."

The urge to box her ears rose again, but Tinyclaw beat it down. It would do no good. "That's not how it works, Cloudpaw," he growled. "You can't fight for the Clan only when you want to. You can't eat kittypet food and only bring back a single piece of prey. You have to choose whether you want to live by the warrior code, or live as a kittypet." As he spoke, he recalled Tigerstar saying much the same thing to him, what seemed like ages ago. Tinyclaw, however, had been a Clan cat since the moment he entered the forest – he had no trouble telling where his loyalties lie.

Cloudpaw looked taken aback. "I like my life," she insisted. "I'm not going to change it just to make _you_ feel better!"

Tinyclaw's hackles rose. "It's not just _me_ that needs this," he hissed. "The entire _Clan_ needs to know where you stand – whether you'll be by our sides when we need you, or sticking your muzzle into a kittypet bowl!"

Cloudpaw's eyes were fury. She picked up the shrew and marched past him. Tinyclaw hissed incredulously as he watched her head back to camp. Tinyclaw worked his paws into the earth, fighting the urge to chase her back to Twolegplace until she decided. But he pushed it down. _She'll have to decide for herself._ He repeated that to himself as he padded back to camp. _I just hope no one else finds out about this mess._

As he neared the gorse tunnel, he heard stones clattering just behind him – some cat clambering down the ravine. Tinyclaw turned, hoping for Sandstorm – but he got Brackenfur, mouth stuff with leaves, instead.

Tinyclaw waited until Brackenfur was on solid ground before noting that he was very much favoring his leg. "Are you all right?" Tinyclaw asked.

"Fine, fine," Brackenfur mumbled around the herbs. He spat them out to talk properly. "My leg is playing up, that's all."

"You should tell Yellowfang," Tinyclaw offered. "She won't want you overdoing it."

"No!" Brackenfur insisted quickly.

"Alright, alright," Tinyclaw chuckled, surprised at the strength of his tone. "Let me carry these herbs for you, at least."

Brackenfur sighed. "May StarClan banish the fleas from your nest," he offered solemnly. Then, he meowed, "I'm sorry for snapping. Yellowfang is busy and needs these herbs – Willowpelt began kitting this afternoon."

Tinyclaw flicked his ear. The last kitting he had seen had been Silverstream's, and that had gone badly enough. "Is she all right?"

Brackenfur nodded. "Yes," he insisted. "Yellowfang just wanted some extra herbs, just in case. I was willing to oblige. Kitting isn't always a two-cat job."

Tinyclaw breathed a sigh. Brackenfur had saved Silverstream's life that day, by the river. Even if he couldn't save one of her kits. It didn't seem to affect him badly. "Let's see how she is, then," Tinyclaw offered. He picked the herbs up in his jaws and headed for the tunnel.

"Hey!" Brackenfur hissed. "You'll be the first to know if I make a full recovery, but for right now can you slow up?"

As they entered the camp, it was evident that Willowpelt's kitting had been a success. The whole camp seemed to be buzzing with excitement, with One-eye and Dappletail padding away from the nursery with hearty purrs.

Sandstorm came dashing up to greet them. Her eyes were wide with wonder and happiness. "Willowpelt had two toms and a she-cat!" she announced.

"How is she?" Brackenfur wondered.

"Fine," Sandstorm replied. "She's feeding them now."

Brackenfur purred. "I must see!" He hobbled over to the nursery.

Tinyclaw spat out the herbs, making sure they weren't damaged before asking Sandstorm, "Where's Cloudpaw?"

Sandstorm narrowed her eyes mischievously. "When Oakheart saw what a measly catch she brought in, he sent her to clean up the elder's bedding," she replied.

"Good," Tinyclaw decided. For once, he was pleased with someone's interference.

"Did you speak to her?" Sandstorm wondered, her tone turning serious. Her eyes glittered with worry.

Bleakly, Tinyclaw remarked, "I don't think she even realizes that she's done something wrong."

To his surprise, Sandstorm didn't seem too troubled. She flicked her tail. "She's young," she reminded Tinyclaw. "Don't be too upset. Keep remembering that first catch, and that you share the same blood." She licked his cheek. "It'll show, sooner or later."

Tinyclaw's fur flushed, but Dustpelt trotted up before Tinyclaw could return the gesture. Dustpelt's eyes were narrowed, and he sneered, "I hear that Cloudpaw made the tiniest catch of the day! You must be _really_ proud of your apprentice."

"Go away," Sandstorm sighed, rolling her eyes. Tinyclaw's ears pricked in surprise. "There's no need to be spiteful – it doesn't impress anyone, you know."

Tinyclaw blinked in shock as Dustpelt recoiled, as if Sandstorm had taken a swipe at him. The dark tabby warrior turned away, shooting Tinyclaw an angry glare. Sandstorm sighed, but said nothing more.

"That's a neat trick," Tinyclaw mewed. "Mind teaching me?"

"Sorry," Sandstorm meowed. "I don't think it'd work for you." She looked lost, but only for a moment. Tinyclaw knew that she and Dustpelt had grown apart when Sandstorm began seeing Tinyclaw in a different light. "I'll apologize later. There are kits to see!"

Sandstorm led the way into the nursery, and Tinyclaw followed. Just as they entered, Tigerstar was squeezing his way out, his broad shoulders shaking the whole den for a moment. He looked relaxed, his eyes shining. Sandstorm slipped in, and Tigerstar breathed, "More warriors for ThunderClan!"

"We'll have more than any other Clan, soon enough," Tinyclaw remarked.

Tigerstar's face suddenly clouded. "Let's hope we can trust these new warriors more than the old," he muttered. Tinyclaw swallowed, shocked, staring at Tigerstar as he padded away. He shook himself. His leader's distrust was no reason to not celebrate – or see – the new arrivals. Tinyclaw padded into the nursery.

It was warm and crowded inside. Willowpelt was huddled up in a bed of moss, looking sleepy and tired. At her side were three kits – two gray like their mother, and one tortoiseshell-and-white. Each kit had a warm, milky scent that made Tinyclaw comfortable to smell.

"They're amazing," he told her.

Willowpelt nodded. Tinyclaw felt a stab of lonelieness – the last new born kits he'd seen were Graystripe's, and he and Silverstream had taken them to RiverClan. Where they belonged, sure; but Tinyclaw couldn't help but think of how ThunderClan could have kept them safe, too.

Tinyclaw's tail bristled as he picked up the scent of Bluefur's kit. He turned to see where she was – Mistykit was nestled up with her brother and sister, sleeping soundly. The pale gray she-cat looked as innocent as any kit from the nursery, and Tinyclaw felt a pang of resentment at the suspicion flickering in his mind.

* * *

Tinyclaw awoke early the next day. Thoughts of Graystripe had laid heavily on his mind the night before, and now they crept up on him like a warrior stalking a mouse. He couldn't help but toss about in his mind how Graystripe might think about the Cloudpaw situation – and the more he thought about it, the more Tinyclaw resolved to see Graystripe today.

He slipped out of the den and gave a long, satisfying stretch. The day was already warm, but not yet at the peak of heat. Now would be a good time to do anything remotely enjoyable. The sky was powdery blue, with nary a cloud in sight, and the sun was just above the horizon.

Dustpelt was chatting with Cinderpelt in the clearing. Tinyclaw frowned. Those two had been rather close lately, and Dustpelt didn't seem like he was as much on edge as he normally was. What was he up to, sharing gossip? Badmouthing Tinyclaw? Whatever it was, Cinderpelt seemed interested. Tinyclaw approached.

Upon sight, Dustpelt's eyes hardened. Well, that hadn't changed.

"Dustpelt," Tinyclaw ordered, "will you take the sunhigh patrol?"

Cinderpelt glanced at Tinyclaw. "May I go, too?"

"Of course," Tinclaw agreed. If it kept Dustpelt out of Tinyclaw's hair, fine. It seemed like the two were getting along, anyway. "Take Ashpaw and Fernpaw with you."

"Sure," Dustpelt grunted. There was no edge to his tone, no hostility that Tinyclaw could feel. It just seemed like he was impatient for Tinyclaw to leave them. "We'll do that."

Tinyclaw nodded. "Good." He padded away, feeling strange. Dustpelt hadn't been happy to have his conversation interrupted, but he hadn't sneered or jibed, either. And now that Tinyclaw was mostly out of earshot, he could hear that Dustpelt was talking to Cinderpelt as normally as any cat would talk to anyone else. _Weird,_ Tinyclaw thought.

Once he was out of the ravine, Tinyclaw raced to Sunningrocks. The ground was so dry, his paws kicked up dust – and when he reached those giant stone slabs, Tinyclaw saw that the various weeds growing up between them had withered and died. It had been two moons since it last rained, and the whole forest was showing it. Tinyclaw sighed and continued on, down the slope of Sunningrocks and towards the river.

The scent marks for RiverClan were strong here, as the forest thinned out to make way for the river. Birdsong echoed through the trees, but there were no other odd noises. RiverClan-scent was heavy here, but it seemed like no one was nearby now. Tinyclaw frowned. Had he just missed their dawn patrol? He didn't scent Graystripe. Was their dawn patrol on the way?

His determination made him take a bit more of a risk than usual. Tinyclaw walked the border itself, peering over the river. It was low enough now to wade across at most areas, but for a deeper channel in the middle that required swimming. Tinyclaw was more used to water than most ThunderClan cats, thanks to the flooding in newleaf.

He was about to begin wading into the river when an unexpected scent battered his nostrils, from his own territory – ShadowClan! Tinyclaw hopped away from the border and into a clump of dead, drying ferns. He opened his jaws, heart pounding in his ears. He had scented that right – ShadowClan cats, on ThunderClan territory! Fresh, too, despite the rancid stink of sickness.

Tinyclaw kept low, creeping deeper into the territory. The scent was not hard to follow. Tinyclaw kept it slow, in case he was spotted – but he saw neither hide nor hair of ShadowClan cats trundling through the forest. Finally he came upon the source of the scent – an old oak, felled by storms, with a low slope of sandy soil going down into its roots. A natural cave, and full of ShadowClan warriors.

 _They need to be driven out,_ he thought. _There aren't too many._ Through the rancid stink, he could only distinguish two scents. Tinyclaw pushed out of the ferns and arched his back, ready to strike – but he was met with only panting, wheezing breaths from inside the cave.

He glared into the gloom. His eyes adjusted quickly, and he flattened his ears in shock. The last time he had seen Whitethroat and Littlecloud, they were disappearing into the tunnel beneath the Thunderpath. What were they doing here?

"Why have you come back?" Tinyclaw demanded. They were staring up at him, tiredly. "Get out of here, before you infect the whole forest!" He unsheathed his claws. These cats needed to _leave,_ before someone with less compassion found them.

"Tinyclaw!" a familiar voice called from behind. "Don't!"


	13. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

" _Brackenfur?" Tinyclaw spun around. "What_ are you doing here?" He narrowed his eyes at the medicine cat. "Did you know about this?"

Brackenfur's chin was lifted in defiance. A pile of herbs lay between his paws. "They needed my help," he declared. "There was nothing left for them in their camp but sickness and suffering. As a medicine cat, my StarClan-given duty is to help _any_ cat in need."

"So they came straight back!" Tinyclaw huffed. Brackenfur's conviction was strong – Tinyclaw wouldn't be shocked if Brackenfur's conviction alone could pull a cat towards him. "Where did you find them?"

"Near Sunningrocks," Brackenfur replied. "They were looking for a place to shelter and hide. I scented them while out collecting herbs yesterday." His tone was even, unafraid.

Tinyclaw didn't like that. "So you brought them _here?"_ he snorted. "They probably only came back onto our land because you would show pity on them!" Brackenfur had made his concern more than obvious when the ShadowClan cats had visited the camp. How could he have exposed the Clan – and himself – to such a risk? "Did you think you could treat them before anyone found out?"

Brackenfur was undaunted. "You're not truly upset with me," he stated. "Hard as you pretend to be, you pity them as much as I do. You couldn't have turned them away again."

Tinyclaw worked his jaw. Brackenfur truly thought he was doing the right thing here – that was certain. And Tinyclaw couldn't deny the truth in the medicine cat's words. He felt sorry for the ShadowClan cats and their illness, and increasingly more worried for Tigerstar's lack of compassion. Even as he tried to be angry, he found that it was too hard to force. "Does Yellowfang know?" he wondered.

Brackenfur frowned. "I don't think so," he replied. "I've tried to keep my excursions out here quick."

"How sick are they?"

"They're beginning to recover," Brackenfur replied. A small hint of satisfaction was in his voice.

"I still smell it," Tinyclaw remarked. "Like a badger's dirt."

"Of course the stench will linger," Brackenfur scoffed. "Sickness does that. They're not completely cured yet. Just look at them! Don't they look healthier?"

"We _are_ getting better, thanks to Brackenfur," Littlecloud meowed behind Tinyclaw. The tom's voice had tremors, but it sounded much stronger.

Tinyclaw turned. Behind him the two ShadowClan cats had crept out of their hole a little. Already, Tinyclaw could see that their eyes were brighter, and their breathing didn't sound as ragged. They even looked more well-rested.

"They do seem to be recovering," Tinyclaw agreed. Looking back to Brackenfur, he asked, "But how? Yellowfang said that this sickness couldn't be cured."

Brackenfur frowned. "Yellowfang knows a lot, but she doesn't know every combination of herb and berry in the forest. I must have gotten lucky and found the right mixture." He sounded just as serious as always, not even a hint of pride in his tone for what he'd accomplished.

"It was well done, then," Tinyclaw offered. He was glad Brackenfur had found a cure for ShadowClan's strange sickness. Tigerstar would be relieved to hear it – were he the same cat he had been before. It wouldn't be safe to tell him about this, even if Brackenfur had cured them already. Tigerstar's judgment was clouded by any threat of impending attack.

 _They can't be hidden forever,_ Tinyclaw thought with a frown. Eventually, some patrol would happen upon them. Tigerstar would order them chased off, or killed, and all of Brackenfur's hard work would be for nothing. "I'm sorry, Brackenfur," Tinyclaw meowed, "but they need to go. It's not safe here."

Brackenfur shook his head. "They're still too sick to leave. I may be able to heal them, but they haven't eaten properly for days – they wouldn't make it." He lifted his leg for emphasis.

"Then I'll catch them something now," Tinyclaw decided. He recalled the last time he had hunted for these cats, and grimaced. "If they can keep it down it ought to give them enough strength to get home."

"But what about when w-we get there?" Whitethroat wondered, trembling.

Tinyclaw frowned. He couldn't answer that. As much as he didn't want to send them back, he couldn't risk letting their sickness spread throughout ThunderClan territory. If someone in ThunderClan fell ill, it would be disastrous. And what if ShadowClan came looking for them? "I am sorry," he said again. "I'll feed you, but then you must go."

"Please!" Littlecloud's voice was high-pitched, almost a wail. "Don't send us back! Nightstar is so weak… this sickness takes a new life from him every day! Most of the Clan thinks he will die."

"Surely he has the lives to spare," Tinyclaw reasoned.

"You haven't seen how ill he is!" Whitethroat insisted. "The whole Clan is frightened; there's no cat who can take his place!"

"What of Cinderfur, your deputy?" Tinyclaw countered. Littlecloud and Whitethroat looked away and did not answer. Tinyclaw's stomach twisted. That had to mean that Cinderfur was dead, and Nightstar was too weak to name a replacement. ShadowClan was truly in chaos, as if Brokentail had returned to lead them once more. Tinyclaw could feel his sympathy winning over his own better judgment. "Fine," he said reluctantly. "You can stay here until you're well enough to travel."

"Thank you, Tinyclaw," Littlecloud breathed, his eyes glittering with gratitude. Whitethroat echoed him, huddled up against his friend. Tinyclaw swallowed, then dipped his head. ShadowClan cats were prickly proud from birth – this dependence must have been hard for them to admit.

Tinyclaw padded past Brackenfur, only to be stopped by a nudge from the larger tom. Brackenfur's whiskers flitted against Tinyclaw's ear: "Thank you," he murmured softly. "StarClan told me you would be understanding… just as they told me of this task of mine. By StarClan's will, I will not let them die."

Brackenfur's eyes brimmed with compassion. "So StarClan told you about this, did they?" Tinyclaw surmised quietly. That explained Brackenfur's protest when Yellowfang refused to treat the ShadowClan cats before. He nodded and decided, "You are a true medicine cat, Brackenfur. Yellowfang – and StarClan – chose well."

This part of the forest was rich and lush with prey – it didn't take long for Tinyclaw to find a thrust and a large rabbit for the ShadowClan warriors. Both had been easy catches, but Tinyclaw had been careful not to cross over into RiverClan territory despite the temptation of a water vole.

Brackenfur was mixing herbs when Tinyclaw retuned, mashing berries into a pulp of leaves Tinyclaw couldn't identify any more. Tinyclaw only laid the prey out before the ShadowClan's cat's shelter, too wary of getting close to the sickness. He pushed it until it tumbled down the slope and into the cave, and he shuddered.

Tinyclaw glanced at Brackenfur. Surely the medicine cat had entered the cave many times – and suddenly Tinyclaw was filled with worry. "Are you feeling all right?" he asked.

Brackenfur didn't look up from the mixture. "Yes, I am," he meowed. He said nothing more on the topic, but he added, "I am glad someone else knows. Keeping this sort of thing a secret from the Clan was beginning to bother me."

Tinyclaw flicked his tail. "We ought to keep this to ourselves," he told Brackenfur.

Brackenfur frowned. "Aren't you going to tell Tigerstar?" he wondered.

"Normally, I would, but…" Tinyclaw trailed off.

"But he's still not over the Bluefur incident," Brackenfur finished. "I understand."

"Sometimes I think he's getting better," Tinyclaw assured him. "Sometimes it feels like he's back to his old self – but then he'll say something, or think for too long, or he'll see something and… he'll be right back to square one."

Brackenfur glanced at Tinyclaw sympathetically. "Yellowfang described that sort of illness to me before – something that can't be cured with herbs, only time. Eventually, Tigerstar will recover," he meowed.

"So she's noticed, too," Tinyclaw sighed.

"To be honest, Tinyclaw," Brackenfur meowed sympathetically, "most of the Clan has."

Tinyclaw swallowed. "W-What are they saying?" he asked. He didn't know if he wanted the answer.

"Tigerstar has been a great leader for a long time," Brackenfur said simply. "They all seem to be waiting for him to be like that again." Tinyclaw felt a little soothed by that. The Clan's faith was powerful, it seemed. At least it seemed to be holding. Of course Tigerstar would get better. He had to.

"Will you come back with me?" Tinyclaw wondered.

Brackenfur's paws were still working the mixture. "I'll need to finish up here," he said.

Tinyclaw nodded in understanding, but he felt strange as he walked away. Leaving Brackenfur alone with two ShadowClan warriors and a stench that made his fur want to crawl off his skin was not a comforting thought. _Did I do the right thing, letting them stay?_

* * *

Outside of the camp, Tinyclaw gave himself a thorough wash. He hadn't rolled in the ShadowClan cat's den, but he knew there was a faint smell lingering on his fur. He screwed his face up at the taste – but washing it out was no option, not unless he wanted to go to the river. The nearest stream had dried up days ago. _I'll find Graystripe another day, I guess._ He couldn't be gone from camp for long.

Sandstorm met him as he entered camp. "Been hunting?" she asked, her eyes flashing over him.

"Looking for Graystripe, honestly," Tinyclaw sighed. He had no prey, and he didn't feel like lying to Sandstorm. It was the easiest part of the truth, anyway.

"Then I suppose you haven't seen Cloudpaw?" Sandstorm guessed. She didn't seem concerned by Tinyclaw's admission.

"She's not here?"

"She went out hunting first thing this morning, but hasn't been back since," Sandstorm replied.

Looking into her eyes and finding little worry, Tinyclaw knew she suspected the same thing he did – that Cloudpaw was with Twolegs again. "What should I do?" he whispered.

"Let's go get her together," Sandstorm offered. "Maybe if I talk to her, we can make her see sense."

"It's worth a shot," Tinyclaw agreed. _Something_ was better than anything at this point.

Together they slipped through the tunnel and out into the forest. Tinyclaw led the way through Tallpines, padding light over the hard ground. The air was still, with little activity but the needles that the cats occasionally kicked up with their paws. This trail was more familiar to Tinyclaw as a route to Fourtrees or Sunningrocks – but Sandstorm was cautious, sniffing every now and again and moving lithely.

Tinyclaw sensed Sandstorm's anxiety building as they exited the cover of the pine woods and padded out into the open. Here, Twoleg nests lined up in a neat row for as far as their eyes could see, even when trees closed the gap between this field and the Thunderpath.

"Are you sure she came this way?" Sandstorm wondered. Her tone jumped as a dog barked in one of the far-off nests. Her hackles were bristling.

"It's all right," Tinyclaw assured her, "the dogs don't leave their gardens." He felt a prickle of discomfort at his knowledge. Sandstorm had been one of the foremost cats to tease him when he first came to the forest. _Kittypet_ this, _kittypet_ that – now that it had stopped, Tinyclaw was very reluctant to remind her where he came from.

"Don't Twolegs bring their dogs out here?" she wondered.

"Sometimes," Tinyclaw admitted. "But you'll hear them and smell them long before you see them. They're not exactly very subtle." His humor did not help her relax.

Tinyclaw sniffed. Cloudpaw's scent drifted strongly over the smells of the Twolegplace. "Cloudpaw's scent is here," he meowed. "Come on."

Sandstorm followed him. Tinyclaw gave the nests as wide a berth as he could manage, skirting around Fiona's nest completely – there was no way Fiona was meeting Sandstorm right now. Not like this. Even lengths away from the nests, Sandstorm seemed uncomfortable, but she stayed with Tinyclaw. Cloudpaw's scent followed the exact same path as it had before, and before that, and before that – to the birch, and over the fence.

Tinyclaw led the way up the birch. Sandstorm followed smoothly, settling on a branch nearby with twitching whiskers. Tinyclaw gripped his branch, searching the Twoleg's yard for signs of Cloudpaw.

There was nothing but scent. The nest was quiet, and Tinyclaw narrowed his eyes through the window. It was dark. His heart thudded in his ears, and his tail fluffed.

"What is it?" Sandstorm wondered.

"Something's wrong," Tinyclaw insisted. "The nest is -" He jumped as a loud thunderclap of a door slamming shut interrupted him. "Empty!" he finished.

He leaped down. Sandstorm followed. Tinyclaw didn't dare tell her to stay put – and she wouldn't even if he begged. He began padding towards the door – but a sudden rumbling pierced the air. A monster was starting up. Tinyclaw felt his heart leap to his ears. He sped along the garden, skirting through a passageway between the nest and the fence.

The Twolegplace buzzed in its entirety before him – but his eyes were all for the monster rumbling on a tiny stone path across the front yard. He could see Twolegs shuffling about inside, and as he watched, another left the house's front door and began heading for the monster. In one hand dangled a mesh-like cage, seemingly made from interlocking twigs of metal.

Inside was Cloudpaw.


	14. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

 _"_ _Cloudpaw!" Tinyclaw cried. Beside him,_ Sandstorm gasped.

Cloudpaw seemed to have heard – for she lifted her head. Her eyes flew wide, and she gripped at the mesh with her claws. "Tinyclaw!" she howled. "Help me!"

The Twoleg took no notice of Cloudpaw's yowling. "Help me!" she cried again. "Don't let them take me!" Tinyclaw started forward, heart pounding in his ears – but in a flash the Twoleg opened a door, stuffed Cloudpaw inside the monster, and shut it again.

In a roar of smoke and fumes, the monster rumbled away, huge black paws rolling down the Thunderpath. With Cloudpaw, and Twolegs, inside.

Tinyclaw's paws moved before he even commanded them to. Sandstorm's cry of protest was cut off as Tinyclaw tore down the lawn and bounded onto the edge of the Thunderpath. The monster was far ahead, rumbling, and other monsters were criss-crossing the way, too – but Tinyclaw tore on.

Rough stone tore at his pads. The monster was long gone, but Tinyclaw was still running. When he stopped, his mind was still racing after the monster as fast as his paws could take him – even though he was puffing and gasping beside the Thunderpath, his paws stinging with grit and his limbs trembling.

"Tinyclaw," Sandstorm murmured.

Tinyclaw did not reply. He was too numb to even find comfort in the touch of her warm fur. _Cloudpaw is gone._ The Thunderpath ahead was empty.

He said nothing as Sandstorm led him back to the Twoleg yard, and through the passageway between nest and fence. She led him through the back garden, over the fence, and back into the woods.

It was then that Sandstorm stopped them. She whirled on Tinyclaw, green eyes wide with concern. "Are you all right?" she demanded.

Tinyclaw couldn't answer. He stared back at the blank fence, trembling. Had that really happened? Would Cloudpaw be bounding over that fence any moment now? Oh, the scolding she would get – _She's gone,_ Tinyclaw told himself firmly. _Gone. No more scolding._

 _No more Cloudpaw._

"Your pads," Sandstorm murmured, "they're bleeding!"

Tinyclaw numbly lifted a foreleg. Yes, she was right – grit and stones punctured all his poor pads. Tinyclaw had the vaguest idea of the stinging, right at the back of his mind, but the shock was numbing the full force of the pain. _Cloudpaw is gone… and she didn't want to go._

When Tinyclaw did nothing but stare at his bleeding paw, Sandstorm bent down and began to lick the pad, smoothly and gently loosening the grit and stone lodged inside. Her gentleness and care soothed Tinyclaw, stirring up faint memories of his own kithood. It seemed to melt his shock away.

"She's gone," he murmured. He felt like a hollow log.

"She'll find her way home," Sandstorm offered. She kept licking his paws, but Tinyclaw felt a flicker of hope – yet her next words crushed it: "If she wants to, that is."

Tinyclaw opened his jaws, but he shut them. She was only speaking the truth. He couldn't be upset at her for that – he wasn't sure he had the energy to be upset at anyone but himself.

"She might be happier where she's going." If Sandstorm noticed his jaws open and shut, she didn't give any indication. "Don't you want her to be happy?"

Tinyclaw nodded slowly.

"Then let's get back to camp," Sandstorm decided briskly. She pulled away from him, and Tinyclaw felt a surge of frustration bubbling up inside. "Come on!" she insisted, waving her tail.

Tinyclaw trembled. "It's so _easy_ for you, isn't it?" he snapped. "You share Clan blood with the rest of them – but me? I only had Cloudpaw! She was my only kin! And now there's no one in the Clan who could be that close to me!"

Sandstorm recoiled, as if struck. She curled her lip. "How can you say that?" she spat. "You have _me!_ I thought our friendship was important to you!" She whipped her head around and snarled, "Clearly, it's _not."_

Bewildered, Tinyclaw watched her disappear, bolting into the trees with a puffed-out tail. His paws stung clearly now, a wave of wretchedness poured over him like hot water. How could he have snapped at Sandstorm like that? He valued her friendship far more than any other cat in the Clan!

Yet there was no more to do here. He got to his paws and headed back to camp, grateful to be away from the fences of Twolegplace. How could he ever tell Fiona what happened to her only daughter? Worry stung him at each paw step. What would the Clan think of this? He could imagine Dustpelt and Longtail jeering, " _Once a kittypet, always a kittypet!"_ in that always-aggravating tone.

 _Maybe there's some truth to that after all,_ he wondered to himself sulkily.

The scuttling of a mouse distracted him. Tinyclaw followed it's furrows through the undergrowth until it stopped near a towering pine. The Clan still needed feeding, no matter what happened. He surged after the mouse, but there was no joy in the hunt – just cold swiftness. Mouse in his jaws, Tinyclaw carried on back to camp.

* * *

It was evening when Tinyclaw returned to camp, mouse swinging from his jaws. The sun was touching the tip of the treeline, turning the sky a lovely orange. As much as he wanted to curl up and be alone, Mousefur met him as he placed his catch on the fresh-kill pile.

"You've been gone a while," she commented.

Tinyclaw wanted to say he was sorry, but just saying so might spark a conversation he didn't want to have. _I need to talk to Tigerstar first,_ he told himself. Of course, even saying nothing might spark the questions anyway.

Mousefur tipped her head at him. She commented, "Oakheart arranged patrols while you were away."

Tinyclaw swallowed. "Tell him thanks," he offered. He cursed himself – he had been gone a lot longer than he ought to have been.

"Sure," Mousefur offered with a shrug. She sauntered away, towards Oakheart and his kits.

Tinyclaw swallowed again, and looked about the clearing. Most of these cats seemed to accept him as deputy now, despite the broken naming ritual – was he really as alone in the Clan without Cloudpaw as he thought? Or had he let the idea of Cloudpaw being his only kin cloud his mind? It didn't stop the fears from pouring in – did Cloudpaw's disappearance mean StarClan wasn't happy with his deputyship?

His legs wobbled under the weight of his anxiety. Looking around, he spotted Sandstorm sharing a meal with Runningwind. He flinched visibly when Sandstorm's eyes passed reproachfully over him. _I'll apologize,_ he told himself. _But… I need to tell Tigerstar first._

His throbbing paws made their way to the den within the Highrock. He called out a greeting, and was shocked when Whitestorm was the one who answered. Tinyclaw made his way inside to find Whitestorm and Tigerstar curled closely to one another, purring and grooming. Tinyclaw's fur went a little hot, and he wondered if he'd interrupted something.

"Tinyclaw," Tigerstar rumbled, his eyes half-closed, "what is it?"

Whatever was happening, the thought of telling Tigerstar what had happened dried up Tinyclaw's tongue. For once, Tigerstar looked pleasantly happy – and Tinyclaw had no desire to ruin that for him.

"I… was simply wondering if… you were hungry," Tinyclaw offered instead. Flimsy, since he could see the remains of a thrush just before both toms.

Tigerstar shook his head, "No," he replied. "Whitestorm brought me something." He looked up warmly at Tinyclaw. "Thank you for the consideration, though."

Tinyclaw nodded and backed out of the den before Tigerstar could ask what he'd been up to today. The purring resumed, and Tinyclaw found that outside the den was far cooler than the inside.

Shaking that off, Tinyclaw trotted back over to the fresh-kill pile and picked up the mouse he'd caught. Then, he took a deep breath and headed for the nettle patch, to sit with Sandstorm and Runningwind. Mostly Sandstorm.

She was tearing apart her sparrow, ripping its wing out with purpose. Tinyclaw flinched at the crunching sounds as he sat down near her, mouse between his paws.

"Hey," Runningwind offered, "I thought you might miss mealtime!"

Tinyclaw shrugged. "Busy day," he offered quietly. His eyes kept darting to Sandstorm, who was absorbed in tearing apart her sparrow systematically. She seemed to be waiting. Runningwind's whiskers twitched at her, and there was a slight grin on his face.

"I'm sorry," Tinyclaw whispered to Sandstorm. "I… didn't mean to say what I did, and I…"

"I understand," Sandstorm said simply. Her eyes flickered to him, and Tinyclaw felt a warm chill spread down his spine. Yes, she did understand. "Next time, think beyond your own whiskers."

"I will," he breathed back. Tinyclaw swallowed. "Are we friends again?"

Sandstorm bit into her sparrow, finally. "We never weren't," she said simply.

Tinyclaw heaved out a sigh of relief, but bit back what was left when he spotted Runningwind snickering just across the nettle patch, his eyes gleaming with amusement. Tinyclaw's tail puffed, and he averted his eyes from his friend. _Great, just what I need,_ he thought. _Runningwind making fun of me like Graystripe did._

"Uh… Tinyclaw?"

Tinyclaw's eyes flickered up. Ashpaw was standing a pace away, looking nervous and worried, his ears pinned and blue eyes clouded.

"Yes?" Tinyclaw wondered. "What is it, Ashpaw?"

"I… I was wondering if you'd seen Cloudpaw," Ashpaw meowed. It came out in a tumble: "She said she'd be back by now, and whatever else she might do… she always keeps her promises!"

Tinyclaw blinked at him, amazed.

"We're all really worried!" Ashpaw mewled.

 _"_ _Whatever else she might do"?_ Tinyclaw was stunned. How had Cloudpaw managed to earn the friendship and loyalty of her denmates when she was so bratty and arrogant? Yet here Ashpaw was, standing before him, worry in his eyes for his friend and littermate.

Something disturbed him, though – after all, being around cats for a while did tend to make a friend or two. What had Ashpaw meant by, _"Whatever else she might do?"_


	15. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

" _I-Is Cloudpaw OK?" Ashpaw wondered._

Tinyclaw blinked as his mind searched for the right words to describe what had happened to Cloudpaw. Ashpaw would not want to know that Cloudpaw had been taken away against her will – that would only make him more distraught. But there was no point in trying to hide what had happened.

"I believe she has left the Clan," Tinyclaw said quietly, "to become a kittypet."

Ashpaw's eyes grew wide with shock and bewilderment. "L-Left…?" he echoed. "But… but she never… She would have _told_ us! I-I never thought she'd want to _stay_ there!"

"Stay where?" Runningwind wondered, his tone sharp. The lean warrior was on his paws. "What's going on?" Ashpaw flinched guiltily, and Tinyclaw felt a flash of sympathy for the apprentice – he'd never meant to betray Cloudpaw's secret.

"Go back to your supper," Tinyclaw soothed Ashpaw. "There's no need for secrets any more. Please. I will tell everyone what has happened." The last thing he wanted was for poor Ashpaw to have to tell the whole Clan he'd lost his littermate to the life of a kittypet. _Let me bear that shame – I bear so much of the responsibility already._

"I just… can't believe she's really gone and done it," Ashpaw murmured. His eyes were pools of misery. "I'll really miss her." He turned and plodded back to the apprentice's den. Tinyclaw had a feeling Ashpaw wouldn't be feeling very hungry.

"Where has Cloudpaw gone?" Runningwind demanded, when Ashpaw was gone. Tinyclaw turned to face the warrior.

There was no real strength in his voice anymore. Tinyclaw replied, "She has gone to live a kittypet's life." Each word stung like a blow – but what else could he say? The entire Clan had watched Cloudpaw grow fat off of kittypet food. No one would believe she had been taken against her will, even if her cries for help echoed in Tinyclaw's ears.

Runningwind only frowned. "Some cats will only be too happy to hear that," he muttered.

Tinyclaw glanced around and saw Ashpaw with the other apprentices. They were huddled together, tails low at the news. Then, Brightpaw darted off to the elder's den. Longtail saw his apprentice scurry, and got to his paws to follow, his long, striped tail flicking back and forth. Tinyclaw sighed.

"Are you going to let them spread the news?" Runningwind wondered. "Are you going to at least tell Tigerstar yourself?"

Tinyclaw muttered, "Too late." It had only taken a moment in the elder's den. Once Brightpaw had spread the news to the elders, whom were so close to Cloudpaw, Smallear was up and out, heading for Tigerstar's den. Longtail was following.

"You should speak to the Clan, at least!" Sandstorm hissed. "Tell them what really happened!"

Tinyclaw could only give her a sorrowful look. "Even if I wanted to, there's no point in hiding the truth. Cloudpaw rejected this life the moment she started taking food from Twolegs. There's nothing I can do to convince the Clan that she didn't just walk into their arms."

Yet Tinyclaw couldn't help but be a little frustrated – Tigerstar was having a peaceful night, for once, and thanks to Smallear and Longtail, his evening would be disturbed. Yet the more he thought on it, he was more frustrated with Cloudpaw – not the Clan.

"You might as well eat, then," Sandstorm sighed. Her tone was gentle – but no matter how much Tinyclaw wanted to curl up to her and eat, he had no appetite now. The news was spreading around the camp now, thanks to the elder's loose tongues, and he could only meet the stares of his Clanmates scattered around the clearing.

Runningwind's tail flicked against Tinyclaw's flank. "Look out," he grunted.

Longtail was approaching, unable to hide the swagger in his step. He stopped before Tinyclaw, his pale eyes beaming, and said haughtily, "Tigerstar wants to see you!"

Tinyclaw only sighed. He got to his paws and made his way to Tigerstar's den, cursing Longtail's big mouth all the way. _At least it wasn't Darkstripe,_ he thought. _Darkstripe would never have let me live this down._

He hesitated at the entrance. Tigerstar's mood swings were so unpredictable – what if this news had put him into one of his bad moods? What if he saw Cloudpaw's leaving as a sign that none of his warriors would be loyal? The thoughts tumbled in his head until a sharp growl came from inside:

"Come in Tinyclaw," Tigerstar growled. "I smell you lurking out there!"

Tinyclaw flinched, but he entered regardless. He tried to put up his best front, but the sight of Tigerstar and Whitestorm sitting tall together, their pale eyes boring into him, only made Tinyclaw sigh again. His ears twitched.

"Seeing if I was hungry indeed," rumbling Tigerstar. Tinyclaw was shocked by the amusement in his leader's mew. "You only try to feed me if you think I'm on my way to StarClan! You had me worried for rumors of my dying spreading around camp."

"I-I'm sorry," Tinyclaw responded, feeling taken aback. "I didn't want to disturb you. You seemed so… happy. I was going to tell you about Cloudpaw, I swear, but -"

"But you didn't want to spoil my mood," Tigerstar finished. Tinyclaw nodded. Tigerstar eyed him, then rumbled on, "Tinyclaw, I appreciate your concern – but I am not made of cobwebs. My moods may have been… unpredictable, but I need to know what is going on in my Clan – regardless of whether you think I'll like the news or not."

"Yes, Tigerstar," Tinyclaw agreed.

"Now, Smallear and Longtail tell me that Cloudpaw has left the Clan to live with Twolegs," Tigerstar meowed. "Did you know this would happen?"

Tinyclaw nodded. "But only recently," he explained. "I only found out the other day that Cloudpaw was visiting Twoleg nests for food."

"And you thought you could sort her out by yourself?" Tigerstar guessed.

"I should have been able to," Tinyclaw insisted. "I _tried._ But she…" He trailed off, acutely aware of Whitestorm's eyes on him. The old white warrior would miss nothing.

"You cannot tell a cat how their heart should feel," Tigerstar rumbled. "If her heart longed for a kittypet life, then not even StarClan could change her mind."

"I know," Tinyclaw agreed. "But it's not so simple as that." He knew there was no excusing Cloudpaw's behavior – but someone in the Clan had to know the truth of what happened. "She was taken against her will!"

Whitestorm narrowed his eyes. "Taken away?" he echoed. "How do you know this?"

"I was there when it happened," Tinyclaw explained. "I wanted to talk to her again, but she was taken by the Twolegs and stuffed into a monster. She was screaming for help the whole way! I tried to chase after her, but I couldn't catch up in time."

"But she has been accepting food from those Twolegs for some time," Tigerstar puzzled.

"Yes," Tinyclaw meowed in confusion. "But when I spoke with her, she seemed adamant about being a warrior – not a kittypet. Like getting food from Twolegs was some sort of benefit to the Clan in her eyes! Her heart seemed to be with the Clan." Tinyclaw swallowed. "I don't think she realized how far she was breaking the warrior code."

"Then are you sure that she is the type of warrior ThunderClan needs?" Tigerstar asked.

Tinyclaw swallowed again, a lump in his throat. Shame flooded over his pelt. "S-She's still young," Tinyclaw meowed, remembering Sandstorm's words. "She has the heart of a Clan cat – even if she doesn't realize it."

Tigerstar frowned, but it didn't seem like he was losing his good temper. "Tinyclaw," he meowed, "ThunderClan needs warriors like you – loyal, dependable, honest. If Cloudpaw was taken, then perhaps this was what StarClan intended. She was here long enough to find her way in our life – wherever she is, StarClan will see to it that she finds happiness."

Tinyclaw raised himself to meet Tigerstar's eyes. "Thank you, Tigerstar," he meowed. He wanted nothing more than to believe StarClan had Cloudpaw's best interests in mind when they let this happen – that they were only looking out for her, and not signaling their disapproval with the kittypet life. Yet he wasn't entirely convinced.

What he was glad for was that Tigerstar had not taken Cloudpaw's leaving as a sign that StarClan was destroying ThunderClan, one warrior at a time.

* * *

That night Tinyclaw dreamed again. He was standing atop the Great Rock, looking down at the clearing of Fourtrees. The rock was strong and ageless beneath his paws, and the wind felt as if it were lifting him up towards the stars, not pulling him down to the ground. When Redtail appeared, Tinyclaw felt it coming – along with relief that the tortoiseshell warrior stayed rather than disappearing so suddenly like last time.

"Tinyclaw," the former deputy meowed. His voice was so close that Tinyclaw could have imagined them standing side by side – but when Tinyclaw looked, there was no Redtail.

"Redtail?" Tinyclaw wondered. Where was he?

"Tinyclaw," Redtail went on, his voice quiet and stern in Tinyclaw's ear. "Beware an enemy that seems to sleep."

Tinyclaw's chest tightened. What? "What do you mean?" he asked the wind. "What enemy?"

" _Beware!"_

Tinyclaw jerked awake in the darkness. All around him were the sounds of cats sleeping in the warrior's den, dark mounds highlighted by dim moonlight filtering through the leaves of the den. He pushed himself up and weaved his way out of the den, careful to not disturb the other warriors.

 _Beware an enemy who seems to sleep._ Redtail's words were jarring around in Tinyclaw's mind, loud and insistent. A warning, clearly – but of what? It didn't take long for Tinyclaw's mind to come up with two options – Bluefur and Darkstripe, who had all but disappeared since their exile, and the ShadowClan warriors, who were literally sleeping on ThunderClan territory right now.

The clearing brought silvery moonlight down onto Tinyclaw's pelt. He could do nothing about Bluefur or Darkstripe, since he did not know where they were now – he would warn the patrols to keep a lookout in the morning, maybe send an extra cat or two out with the regular parties for the next few days. But the ShadowClan warriors… Tinyclaw took his paws to the medicine cat's den. He could try and ease his mind on that front at least before he went to bed.

 _How could I have let them stay?_ He hissed to himself. Bats flitted between the trees up above. Occasionally an owl hooted. Tinyclaw slipped into the medicine cat's den, keeping his paws quiet. _I trust Brackenfur, yes – but those warriors could be up to anything!_ Brackenfur's heart was just too kind to worry about that sort of thing.

Yellowfang's snores echoed through the clearing from inside her den in the crack in the rock – but Brackenfur was sleeping soundly outside, his injured leg sticking out awkwardly. Tinyclaw gently prodded his former apprentice. "Brackenfur!" he hissed.

Brackenfur was awake immediately. "Yes?" he wondered.

"Are you certain that you've cured the ShadowClan warriors?" Tinyclaw kept his voice low, though he knew Yellowfang could not hear them outside her den.

Brackenfur's expression twisted into frustration. "Yes," he meowed tersely. "They will need a little more time, but -"

"They need to go," Tinyclaw insisted, interrupting the medicine cat. "As soon as possible."

Brackenfur eyed Tinyclaw. "What is with this urgency?" he wondered tiredly. "Tinyclaw, they're recovering, but they're not completely cured yet. And I'm fine, too. What is this about?"

Tinyclaw frowned. "I had a dream," he meowed.

Brackenfur's face turned serious. "A dream," he echoed.

"Redtail came to me, and said to beware an enemy that seems to sleep," Tinyclaw explained. If any cat could understand the importance of this dream, it would be Brackenfur – who placed so much faith in StarClan's messages himself. What else could these dreams be? "I intend to bolster the patrols tomorrow morning to keep a lookout for Bluefur and Darkstripe but the only other threat I can think of is the ShadowClan warriors."

"He told you no more?" Brackenfur asked – but he did not wait for an answer. "No, of course not. StarClan are often vague." He shuffled in his nest. "Very well," he meowed.

Tinyclaw was stunned. "Very well what?" _Have I won just like that?_ He wondered.

"I will see to it that the ShadowClan warriors leave tomorrow," Brackenfur meowed.

"Thank you," Tinyclaw breathed.

Brackenfur shot him a stern look that made Tinyclaw bite down on his relief. "I will see that they leave, but know this, Tinyclaw – I take no pleasure in possibly turning them back to their deaths. ShadowClan is rife with that sickness, and it's likely that my work will be undone."

"But you'll teach them the cure, won't you?" Tinyclaw wondered.

"I will do my best to," Brackenfur meowed, "yes."

"Then thank you," Tinyclaw meowed, gratitude brimming in his voice.

Brackenfur frowned. "I hope Redtail is right."

"He too often is," Tinyclaw meowed quietly.

The silence stretched between them. An owl hooted outside before Brackenfur stretched and curled himself back up into his nest. "Go back to your den, Tinyclaw. I will ensure that the ShadowClan warriors leave as soon as I can – but you should get back to sleep before Sandstorm misses you."

Tinyclaw flicked his ear. "Sandstorm?" he repeated.

Brackenfur shot Tinyclaw a wry look. "Surely you've noticed that she is as fond of you as you are her?" he mewed with amusement. "You can't be _that_ blind."

Tinyclaw swallowed, heat flooding his pelt. Sandstorm, fond of him? Sure, she respected him like any other warrior, but… _She moved her nest closer to mine,_ he thought frantically, his mind buzzing. _And she hunts with me and the things she says and how she acts… How she reacted when I snapped at her! Oh StarClan._ His gut roiled. _Is she really…_ fond _of me…?_

Brackenfur chuckled, "Good night, Tinyclaw."


	16. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

" _There has never been a_ greenleaf like it," One-eye grumbled. "These woods are as dry as kits' bedding."

Tinyclaw couldn't help but agree. The sky had been empty of clouds for what seemed like a moon, and all the streams in ThunderClan territory had dwindled until the Clan had to trek all the way to Sunningrocks for river water.

He prayed to StarClan that rain would come soon. They had to know the Clans needed it – ThunderClan couldn't be the only Clan suffering in the drought. The worst part of it was that thirsty cats had to go closer and closer to where Brackenfur kept the ShadowClan cats to get water now, and the risk of them coming across the lingering scents of disease was growing high. The better part was that the worries about water put Cloudpaw and her whereabouts out of Tinyclaw's mind.

The sunhigh patrol had returned just now, and Frostfur was organizing some cats to go collect water. Nearly all the Clan stayed out of the sun, huddling in the shady edges of the clearing. It gave little protection, but it was a better feeling than baking in the direct sunlight.

"Why would StarClan send such a drought now?" Smallear wondered.

Tinyclaw flicked his ear, feeling the old cat's gaze linger on him for a moment. Tinyclaw didn't need to read minds to know that Smallear was thinking of broken ceremonies. Tinyclaw shivered.

"The dryness doesn't bother me so much as the Twolegs," One-eye rasped. Thankfully, there was no more comment on Smallear's statement. "Those things have been stamping about everywhere, scaring prey and ruining our scent markers with their stench. Some rain might drive them off!"

"I'm worried about Willowpelt," Speckletail meowed. She was gently grooming her deaf son Snowkit, huddled amongst the elders in the shade. She visited him often. "She has to travel so far to get water, and her kits are so young to be left alone for so long. But if she doesn't drink, her kits get no milk."

Patchpelt was nodding. "And the other youngins, too," he mused. "They might be on solid prey but they can't go out for water like a warrior can." The patched elder paused, then suggested, "Perhaps if we carried back moss soaked in water, they could drink from that?"

"A good idea," Tinyclaw agreed. _I should have thought of that,_ he scolded himself. _I can't put the nursery out of my mind just because one kit makes me uncomfortable._ "Could you bring some back today?"

Patchpelt nodded.

"We'll all bring some," Speckletail promised.

"Thank you," Tinyclaw meowed. He blinked at the elders in respect – yet his heart sank. Cloudpaw would have jumped at the chance to help the elders in this task. She would have carried all their moss, too, before they could tell her they could handle it. She loved them. Tinyclaw forced away a frown. The worst thing was that the elders didn't even comment on her absence.

 _The entire Clan doesn't seem to care,_ he thought. Was he the only cat to have thought that Cloudpaw could have adapted to life in the Clan? Had they truly had so little faith in her from the beginning? Tigerstar was right – it _had_ been Cloudpaw's decision – but it didn't stop Tinyclaw from missing her.

He called to Sandstorm and Cinderpelt, who were sharing a meal with Dustpelt. It seemed as if Sandstorm and Dustpelt were friends again – at least, they could stand one another's presence. Tinyclaw wondered how much that had to do with Cinderpelt, who was sitting unusually close to Dustpelt. At his call, though, the two she-cats got to their paws and headed over.

"Would you escort Smallear and the others?" Tinyclaw asked. He explained about the balls of water-soaked moss, and how it was for the queens and kits. "I don't know how close to the river they'll have to go, and I want them to have backup in case they run into a RiverClan patrol." He paused, looking them over. "I know you're probably tired, but Dustpelt will be taking Ashpaw out soon and someone needs to stay with Whitestorm to guard the camp."

"It's no problem," Cinderpelt assured him.

"I'm not tired, Tinyclaw," insisted Sandstorm. Her lovely green gaze fixed on him, and Tinyclaw trembled from head to paw.

Brackenfur's words from a few nights ago echoed in his mind – he was still not over it – and he couldn't help but clam up. A little too loudly, he squeaked, "Er, right." He bent down to lick his chest – was it warmer than he thought, or was it because of his black fur? His licking increased in briskness as Cinderpelt's whiskers twitched in amusement.

He was more than relieved when the two she-cats padded away. Dustpelt got to his paws a moment later to fetch Ashpaw, and soon the clearing was all but deserted. Whitestorm was with Tigerstar in his den. Willowpelt and Brindleface were in the nursery with the kits, keeping an eye on them. Mistykit had tottered out of the nursery on her own the other day, and nearly left the camp herself. The queens had been in a fuss, and Oakheart had been the one to track her down and bring her back – even though Tinyclaw had been closer, he just couldn't meet Mistykit's eyes.

Yet now as he listened to the kits' mewling inside the nursery, he couldn't help but worry. What _if_ their mother couldn't produce enough milk? He couldn't help but worry about the patrols, too, and whether or not they would reach the river without issue. He pictured Sandstorm's pale orange pelt glowing softly in the sunshine – and then, with a jolt, he remembered the ShadowClan cats.

He shuddered and headed for Yellowfang's den. _What if Brackenfur didn't send them away?_ He thought worriedly. _What if they're still here, and one of the patrols caught them?_ Tinyclaw couldn't imagine the trouble he and Brackenfur would be in if that were the case.

Tinyclaw nearly bumped into Brackenfur as he limped out of the den's entrance. "What's the matter with you?" he spat indignantly. "Watch it!" His face was screwed up in irritation – he became more like Yellowfang every day – but when he read Tinyclaw's expression, his face softened. "Tinyclaw, I'm sorry – what's wrong?"

"Are they really gone?" Tinyclaw demanded. "Really?"

It took a moment for Brackenfur to realize what Tinyclaw was talking about. His eyes flashed with recognition, and he insisted, "We've been over this already, Tinyclaw."

"Are you _sure?"_ Tinyclaw repeated.

"They promised to leave that very night," Brackenfur stated. His tone brooked no argument.

"And the sickness – is there any sign of it left?" Tinyclaw wondered.

Brackenfur's ear twitched. "Look," he sighed, "I have little time for this! I told them to leave, and they said they would. I need to get berries for Yellowfang before birds pick them all! If you don't believe, me, check for yourself."

A low growl sounded from within: "Why are you still here, Brackenfur?" Yellowfang demanded. "Those berries are the only moist thing in the forest, and animals will be lining up to get them!"

"Sorry," Brackenfur called over his shoulder. "Tinyclaw was talking to me." The golden-brown warrior flashed Tinyclaw a look of irritation.

"Well tell Tinyclaw to buzz off!" Yellowfang hissed impatiently. "If he's wasting your time, he'll have _me_ to answer to!"

Tinyclaw felt a pang of quilt. Brackenfur turned back to Tinyclaw and sighed apologetically. "You're such a fretful old badger, aren't you?" he muttered. Brackenfur butted Tinyclaw on the shoulder affectionately. "Go check the root cave for yourself when you have the time. By StarClan's mercy, they _are_ gone."

As Brackenfur limped past, Tinyclaw knew he was right – Tinyclaw would not be satisfied until he checked for himself. Yet he couldn't leave just now, since he and Whitestorm were the only two warriors in camp. Despite increasing the size of patrols in readiness for whatever Redtail's warning meant, two warriors needed to be in camp at all times.

His fur itched with worry. He padded away from the medicine cat's den and headed for the shade of the Highrock – only to spot Whitestorm headed towards him.

"Have you decided on the evening patrol yet?" the white warrior wondered as he drew close.

"I thought Runningwind might take Mousefur, Thornpaw, and Dustpelt when he returned from training Ashpaw," Tinyclaw replied.

"Good idea," Whitestorm agreed. His tone sounded distracted – something was on his mind, but it didn't take long for him to say it. "Could Swiftpaw go on the dawn patrol tomorrow?" he asked. "The experience would do him good, and I have been… neglecting him lately." Whitestorm's ear twitched.

With a twinge, Tinyclaw realized that Whitestorm had been spending an awful lot of time with Tigerstar lately. Their affection for one another was no secret, and Tigerstar always seemed in a better mood with Whitestorm around – yet Tinyclaw couldn't help but wonder if Whitestorm feared what might happen if he left Tigerstar alone for too long. Tinyclaw felt guilty that another cat had caught on to Tigerstar's weakness – but there was no better cat for that than Whitestorm, especially when it came to sharing worries.

"Of course," Tinyclaw agreed.

Together, they sat down in the shade of the Highrock. Whitestorm settled himself, drawing his thick tail over his paws. "It's quiet this afternoon," he remarked.

"Sandstorm and Cinderpelt went with the elders to fetch water for the queens and kits," Tinyclaw explained. "Patchpelt suggested soaking moss with water for easier transportation."

Whitestorm nodded. "An old trick," he agreed. "Perhaps they could share some with Tigerstar. He has been reluctant to leave the camp." Whitestorm's voice lowered. "He has been licking dew from the leaves every morning, but he needs more than just that."

Tinyclaw felt anxiety swell in his chest. "He seemed so much better the other day," he murmured.

"He gets better every day," Whitestorm assured, "but still, he…" Whitestorm held a deep frown, and Tinyclaw did not wish for him to go on. There was no need.

"I understand," Tinyclaw agreed. "I'll tell Patchpelt to bring her some when they return."

"Thank you," Whitestorm purred, relieved. He looked appraisingly at Tinyclaw. "You're doing very well, you know."

Tinyclaw flicked an ear. "What do you mean?"

"Being deputy," Whitestorm explained. "I know it hasn't been easy, with this drought and Tigerstar's… condition. Yet I know there isn't a cat in the Clan who could have handled this better than you – and I am not the only one who thinks so."

Tinyclaw flattened his ears. _I can name a few who disagree…_ Dustpelt, for one, and the elders. Yet he realized he was being churlish – Whitestorm did not give out praise so easily. "Thank you, Whitestorm," he offered. He valued this cat's opinion just as much as Tigerstar's, and such praise warmed his pelt.

"And I am sorry about Cloudpaw," Whitestorm went on, his tone sympathetic. "He was your kin… it must be very hard for you. Clanborn cats sometimes take such things for granted."

Tinyclaw's eyes widened at Whitestorm's shrewdness. "Well, yes," he began awkwardly. "I miss her very much – not just because she was my kin, but I truly thought she could have been a great warrior in the end." Tinyclaw was surprised when he saw Whitestorm nodding beside him.

"She was a good hunter and a good friend to the other apprentices," Whitestorm agreed. "But perhaps StarClan has a different destiny for her. I am no medicine cat – I cannot read the stars or listen to the wind like Yellowfang or Brackenfur, but I have always been willing to trust our warrior ancestors. They only want what is best for us."

Tinyclaw could only stare at the noble warrior beside him. How could he ever measure up to someone like Whitestorm, so loyal and strong? _If Cloudpaw had one whisker of Whitestorm's respect she might have…_

A clattering of stones at the camp entrance made Tinyclaw break off his thought. Both he and Whitestorm jumped to their paws. Tinyclaw was through the camp entrance just as Speckletail burst down the ravine, tail puffed out in anger. The others were following, scattering pebbles and dust as they came.

"Twolegs!" Speckletail cursed.

Tinyclaw looked up. Sandstorm and Cinderpelt had burst from the woods, with their pelts fluffed. Together, the she-cats were helping the elders down, going boulder-to-boulder.

"It's all right," Cinderpelt huffed. "We lost them."

When they were all at the bottom, Sandstorm explained, still gasping for breath: "There was a group of young ones – they chased us!"

Tinyclaw's fur bristled with alarm. "Are you all right?" he demanded.

Sandstorm glanced at the elders, then she nodded.

"Good," Tinyclaw breathed, steadying himself. "Where were they, then? By the river?"

"We hadn't even made it to Sunningrocks!" Sandstorm huffed. "They were loose in the forest, traipsing about! Not even on their paths." Her eyes glittered with indignation.

Tinyclaw tried hiding his worry. Twolegs very rarely came into this part of the forest. "We will have to wait until dusk to fetch water," he decided.

"Will they be gone then, you think?" One-eye rasped.

Tinyclaw glanced up at the cloudless sky. "Why should they stay?" he wondered. "Twolegs need rest, just as we do." In his experience, Twolegs were always less active at night – but who could truly predict them?

"But what about Willowpelt and the kits?" Smallear wondered. His coat was caked with dust, his folded-over ears twitching. "They'll need water before dark."

"I'll go," Sandstorm offered.

"No," Tinyclaw interjected, "I will." Fetching the water would give him the perfect excuse to go looking for the ShadowClan cats, and keep any others from possibly finding them. He glanced at Sandstorm. "I'll need you to stay at the top of the ravine and keep a look out for Twolegs. I won't have them discovering the camp." At One-eye's whimper, Tinyclaw meowed, "I'm sure they'll have gone back by now, but I want Sandstorm on guard just in case. You'll be safe with her watching about." He knew deep in his heart that Sandstorm would die to defend her Clan.

"I'll go with you, then," Cinderpelt offered.

Tinyclaw shook his head. He didn't need someone else wondering what he was going on about. Brackenfur's deed had been foolish, but good – yet Tinyclaw knew that the Clan would not think so, not even his sister. "You'll need to guard the camp with Whitestorm," he told her. "And I want you to report what happened to Tigerstar. I'll carry as much back as I can – the rest of you can wait until sunset."

The others seemed to agree. Tinyclaw and Sandstorm climbed up the ravine together. There was no scent of Twolegs here, thankfully.

"Be careful," Sandstorm whispered, brushing close against him.

Tinyclaw's pelt warm, and he turned and licked her between the ears. "I will," he promised softly.

Green eyes met ice-blue for a long moment, and then Tinyclaw turned away and hared into the trees. He crept warily through the forest, slipping between the thickest undergrowth he could find. His senses were strained to catch any sign of Twolegs – but as he approached Sunningrocks, their unnatural stench was staling.

Tinyclaw turned and cut through the woods. The land sloped up here to run along the RiverClan border. As he checked for RiverClan patrols, he kept his eye open for the big gray head of his friend, Graystripe. Yet there was no sign of cats in the airless forest. Tinyclaw would be able to fetch water from the stream without disruption – but first, he needed to check the ancient oak.

He headed along the border, stopping to smell scent markers and freshen ThunderClan's in between. The newleaf lushness was gone even here, the leaves shriveled and worn from a lack of water and too much sunshine. It seemed that the river's water could not reach this far. Tinyclaw soon came upon the gnarled oak, with its dusty cave.

Tinyclaw breathed in deeply. The stench of sickness had gone. With a sigh of relief, Tinyclaw decided to take a quick look inside before going to fetch the water. He bent down and peered into the dark hole, stretching his neck to look for recent signs of ShadowClan occupation.

He let out a startled gasp as a great weight slammed down onto his back, claws grasping at his sides. Fear and rage pulsed through him as he yowled, twisting violently to shake off his attacker. But the cat who had ambushed him had greater size, and the ambush made it difficult for Tinyclaw to shake off the firm hold. Tinyclaw prepared himself for thorn-sharp claws to drag at his flanks, but the paws that battered him were sheathed.

A familiar scent filled Tinyclaw's nostrils. A scent he would have known anywhere.

"Graystripe!" Tinyclaw meowed joyfully.

"I thought you'd _never_ come to see me," Graystripe meowed playfully.

Graystripe slipped from his back, and Tinyclaw realized that his friend's gray pelt was soaking. Tinyclaw's own black pelt was damp now, and he gave it a shake. It felt good against the heat, but he stared in amazement at Graystripe's soaked pelt. "You swam across the river?" he meowed in amazement.

Nodding, Graystripe gave himself a quick shake. Water spun easily from his pelt which now had a glossy sheen on its thickness. "It's quicker than going across the stepping-stones," he meowed. "Besides, my fur doesn't seem to hold the water in any more. One of the advantages of eating fish, I suppose."

"About the only one, I imagine," Tinyclaw remarked. He couldn't imagine eating the strong flavor of fish appealing to him. He much rather preferred the musky flavor of ThunderClan prey.

"It's not so bad once you get used to it," Graystripe said.

"But you'd eat _anything_ ," Tinyclaw countered.

Graystripe looked warmly at Tinyclaw. "You look well," he meowed.

"You, too," Tinyclaw purred.

"How is everyone?" Graystripe wondered. "Is Dustpelt still a pain? How is Tigerstar?"

"Dustpelt is fine," Tinyclaw meowed, "better than fine. And Tigerstar, is…" Suddenly he trailed off. Graystripe was his friend, but he was also an enemy warrior. How much could he truly tell?

"What's up?" Graystripe wondered, narrowing his eyes.

Tinyclaw flinched, realizing that Graystripe knew him far too well. He flicked his ears self-consciously.

"T-Tigerstar _is_ all right, isn't he?" Graystripe's voice was thick with concern.

"He's fine," Tinyclaw insisted. Thankfully it as anxiety Graystripe had detected, not Tinyclaw's brief wariness of his old friend. "But… he hasn't really been himself lately. Not since Bluefur…"

Graystripe frowned. "Have you been seeing that old poisonpaws around lately?" he wondered.

Tinyclaw shook his head. "No sign of her, or Darkstripe either. I don't know how Tigerstar would react if we saw them again."

"He'd scratched their eyes out, knowing him," Graystripe meowed assuredly. "I can't imagine anything keeping Tigerstar down for long."

 _I wish that were true,_ Tinyclaw thought sadly. He knew he could not truly confide his worries to Graystripe anymore. Graystripe was RiverClan now and sharing the details of Tigerstar's weakness was something Tinyclaw could not do, no matter how much he wanted to. And there was another thing – he could not bring himself to tell Graystripe about Cloudpaw's disappearance. Tinyclaw tried to tell himself it was because he didn't want to worry Graystripe – but it was because of Tinyclaw's own pride. He didn't want Graystripe to know he had failed a second time as a mentor, so soon after Brackenfur.

"What's it like in RiverClan?" he asked, deliberately changing the subject. He hoped Graystripe didn't notice the pause.

Graystripe shrugged. "Not much different than ThunderClan," he admitted. "Some are happy, some are grumpy, some are… normal. They're all normal cats, same as there were in ThunderClan." He smiled. "I didn't think they'd be, but they are."

Tinyclaw couldn't help envying Graystripe's new life. It clearly held nowhere close to the amount of responsibility that Tinyclaw's did as deputy. Tinyclaw couldn't help but feel a pang of resentment tinged with grief – Graystripe could not leave his mate and kits, but couldn't he have fought harder to keep them in ThunderClan?

He pushed away his unfriendly thoughts. "How are your kits?" he asked.

Graystripe purred proudly. "They're wonderful!" he declared. "Featherkit is just like Silverstream – every bit as beautiful with the same temper too! She follows Silverstream around _everywhere._ And Stormkit is more easygoing; he rolls with just about anything that comes his way, even when his sister is pulling on his ear."

"Just like his father," Tinyclaw chuckled

Graystripe nodded, his eyes shining. "Every cat loves them, Tinyclaw. Especially Crookedstar – you should see how he spoils them! Silverstream can nurse them now, she's just as healthy as before. I couldn't imagine being without her, or them."

Tinyclaw felt a familiar rush of joy from being with his old friend. Suddenly, Tinyclaw burst, "I miss you, Graystripe." The thought of running through the woods with Graystripe filled his mind, hunting and sleeping and fighting together. "Why can't you come home?"

"I am where I belong," Graystripe said, his eyes darkening. "I can't leave my kits. I can't leave Silverstream. I _love_ them. I love _her._ "

Tinyclaw could not disguise the hurt from his expression. Yet Graystripe's words flooded over him. What would Tinyclaw do if he were in Graystripe's position? He touched his nose to Graystripe's cheek. _I would do the same for Sandstorm. A hundred times._

Graystripe nudged him back. "Enough soppy stuff," he chuckled. "You didn't come here to see me, did you?"

Tinyclaw was caught off guard. "Well, not entirely," he confessed.

Graystripe smirked. "You were looking for those ShadowClan cats right?"

Tinyclaw's eyes widened. "How did you know about them?" he demanded.

"How couldn't I?" Graystripe exclaimed. "What with that stench they were giving off… ShadowClan cats smell bad on their own but _sick_ ones? Yuck!"

"D-Does the rest of RiverClan know about them?" Tinyclaw wondered. His tail trembled. If they did… Oh StarClan, Tinyclaw could only imagine Leopardfur's fury. Not only that, but ThunderClan sheltering ShadowClan cats again? Sick ones? The other Clans would be livid.

"Not as far as I know," Graystripe offered. "I managed to get all the patrols on this side of the river. The other cats indulged me, thought I was homesick." With a grin, he added, "They were probably secretly hoping I'd go back to ThunderClan if I got enough of the forest in my nose."

"But why protect the ShadowClan cats?" Tinyclaw wondered.

Graystripe shrugged. "I came over and spoke to them when they arrived," he explained. "They told me that Brackenfur had hidden them there, and that he was treating them. And if Brackenfur knew about it, I assumed you did, too… and I figured it was probably all right. Sheltering sick cats is the sort of soft-hearted thing you'd do."

"As if you wouldn't!" Tinyclaw huffed.

Graystripe only shrugged again.

"I wasn't exactly thrilled when I found out," Tinyclaw admitted.

"You let him off though, I'm betting?"

"… Of course," Tinyclaw grunted.

Graystripe grinned. "Thought so. Brackenfur sure knows his way around words – be careful, he's got you wrapped around his paw!" he chuckled affectionately. "But either way, they're gone now."

"When did they leave?" Tinyclaw wondered. He felt a wave of relief that Brackenfur had kept his promise.

"A couple days ago," Graystripe replied. "One was hunting on this side of the river, but I haven't seen them since."

"A couple of days?" Tinyclaw repeated. Alarm flashed through his pelt. So Brackenfur hadn't told them to leave when he said he would after all – he must have kept them around to make sure their sickness had left them before sending them away. _All that time I had assumed… what if some cat had come across them?_ With any luck, they had taken the threat of sickness with them.

"Look," Graystripe meowed, "I have to go. I'm supposed to be hunting, and I promised I'd watched a couple of apprentices this afternoon."

"Have you got an apprentice of your own?" Tinyclaw wondered.

"Not right now," Graystripe meowed. "I don't think they're willing to trust me that far yet."

Tinyclaw met his friend's eyes. He couldn't tell if it was amusement or something else that made Graystripe's whiskers twitch.

"I'll see you again sometime," Graystripe decided. He touched his nose to Tinyclaw's.

"Definitely," Tinyclaw agreed.

A pang of sadness tore through Tinyclaw as Graystripe turned away. First Ravenpaw, then Cloudpaw… would he be forced to watch those closest to him leave? "Take care!" he called as Graystripe slipped into the river. Graystripe waded in confidently, his paws churning, leaving a gentle wake behind him.

 _If only I could go on so smoothly,_ Tinyclaw thought. It would be so easy, then, shedding problems like water on Graystripe's pelt. There was no time for that, though – Tinyclaw turned away and headed into the trees.


	17. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

 _The wet moss in Tinyclaw's_ jaws dripped all the way home. The water cooled his chest and his front paws – but there would be enough to quench the queens and their kits until more could be gotten after sunset.

As the sun began to slowly sink the Clan was gathered in small groups in the growing shade, sharing tongues and eating. They paused briefly between licks or mouthfuls to greet Tinyclaw as he padded through the entrance and headed for the nursery. Tinyclaw gave a nod to Mousefur, Runningwind, Thornpaw, and Longtail, who were setting out on the evening patrol. The extra cat on each patrol made it hard to organize things, but it put Tinyclaw's mind at ease.

Near the elder's den, Brindleface was readying another water-gathering party. The elders were clustered around her near the fallen oak, and as Tinyclaw passed he caught wind of Smallear's determined mew: "We'll need to keep our eyes and ears sharp while traveling in the dusk," he said. "You see that nick in my ear? Got it from an owl as it tried to pick me up for supper!"

"You did _not!"_ admonished Dappletail.

Smallear's reply was cut off as Tinyclaw moved out of range. The fur along his back was smooth, relaxed in knowing that Clan life was just. Normal. The ShadowClan cats were gone, and Tinyclaw had seen Graystripe. For once, his head wasn't buzzing with worry. He slipped into the nursery and placed the moss ball beside Willowpelt, who was lounging on her side in the cool dark.

"Thank you, Tinyclaw," she murmured, giving it a lick.

"There will be more after sunset," Tinyclaw promised. Willowpelt took the moss ball and put it centrally in the nursery. Tinyclaw tried to ignore Bluefur's kits as they scrambled for a drink, but their gleaming eyes and purrs were hard to put out of his mind. Willowpelt's own kits looked too feeble for water, and they wiggled silently in their nest. Willowpelt gently squeezed the moss ball so that they could have more.

"Brindleface is leading the elders to the river to get more water," he explained. "Once the sun has set the woods ought to be clear of Twolegs."

"It's been a while since some of them have been out that far," Willowpelt meowed, her whiskers twitching. "Not to mention after dark."

"I think they'll enjoy it," Tinyclaw told her. "Smallear was trying to tell a story about how an owl once tried to carry him off."

Willowpelt chuckled. "Any other cat would tell you different," she mewed. "They could use the exercise." She squeezed out some more water. "I'll tell you Tinyclaw, I wish I was out there with them. My legs could use a good jaunt through the woods."

"You miss being a warrior?" Tinyclaw guessed. The nursery was so comfortable, Tinyclaw hadn't thought that Willowpelt would hanker for her old life.

Willowpelt glanced at him, then down at the kittens, greedily drinking and purring at her paws. "Oh, I do," she said. "But these little ones… I look forward to raising them and helping them grow." She looked back up at Tinyclaw, her eyes soft, but filled with determination. "I will love my kits forever."

Tinyclaw's whiskers twitched as she went on: "But I miss running through the forest, hunting prey through the undergrowth." Willowpelt smiled fondly down at her little wiggly bundles in her nest. "I will enjoy taking them out into the forest with me for the first time."

"Can we come?" Stonekit wondered, looking up from the moss ball. His muzzle glistened with wetness.

"Can we?" repeated Mistykit. Mosskit looked up too, eyes bulging at the thought.

Willowpelt looked down at them, chuckling. "Of course," she said. "Oakheart can come, too."

"He can bring Fernpaw!" Mosskit chimed. "She can teach us how to hunt!"

Willowpelt purred at the kits, looking warmly at Tinyclaw. "That is up to Tinyclaw," she told them. "He is deputy, after all."

The kits suddenly looked at him, blue eyes wide. Tinyclaw froze. _Why do they all have to have_ her _eyes?_ He swallowed. The silence stretched on and Tinyclaw realized that he had to say something.

"We'll see," he managed.

That seemed to satisfy the kits – they didn't even notice his long pause. They chirped and purred excitedly, dancing about the moss ball and proclaiming who would catch what prey first, or who would impress their father more. Willowpelt looked back at Tinyclaw, her gaze understanding.

"Wait until you have kits of your own," she said. "You'll get used to the enthusiasm!"

Tinyclaw coughed, but said nothing. All the kits, talking about their first hunt… it made Tinyclaw feel suddenly queasy. His mind, unbidden, brought up the image of Cloudpaw trotting through the leaf-bare blizzard, a snow-crusted vole in her jaws. She had showed such promise, and…

He cut the thought away before Willowpelt noticed. Tinyclaw dipped his head to her and left the nursery, trying not to hurry.

The fresh-kill pile was picked over, but the prey that was left was plump and enticing. Tinyclaw forged past it, though – his meal could wait. There was one more thing he wanted to do to make today feel complete.

Yellowfang and Brackenfur were sharing tongues just outside the ferns of the medicine cat's den, sharing the shade and chatting quietly like the oldest of friends. Tinyclaw felt a flash of fondness for the both of them, glad that the two were getting along so well despite their vast personality difference.

"Hello, Tinyclaw," Yellowfang purred, looking up from Brackenfur's pelt. "What is it you need?"

Brackenfur was not looking at Tinyclaw – the golden-brown tom look relaxed, yet Tinyclaw had an impression that Brackenfur was expecting what Tinyclaw was about to say: "I just need to speak with Brackenfur for a moment."

"What is it?" Brackenfur wondered dryly.

Yellowfang's whiskers twitched. "Now, is that any way to speak to your deputy?" she chastised.

"It is when he seems determined to dog my every step," Brackenfur decided. The golden-brown tom yawned before turning to face Tinyclaw.

"Are you two up to something I ought to know about?" Yellowfang wondered.

" _Now_ look who is questioning her deputy," Brackenfur chided.

Yellowfang huffed. She got to her paws, glowering down at Brackenfur. "Very well!" she chuffed. "I'll go get something more to eat then while you two _talk."_ She turned away. "A mouse or two more sounds like it ought to fill me fine." The old medicine cat sauntered away, leaving Tinyclaw and Brackenfur alone.

"Don't worry," Brackenfur meowed, yawning again. "She's not upset, just playing at it for show."

Tinyclaw looked back at Brackenfur. The tom was idly cleaning between his toes, looking up at Tinyclaw now and then. "So what is it you want?" he asked.

"The ShadowClan cats are gone," Tinyclaw meowed.

"Of course they are," Brackenfur meowed. "I told them to go."

"But they didn't leave until a few days ago!" Tinyclaw hissed. "I told you -"

"I wasn't going to let them go without making sure they were fit to travel," Brackenfur meowed sharply, cutting Tinyclaw off. "I also made sure to teach them the herb mixture inside and out, so they could make it for their Clanmates."

Tinyclaw twitched his tail at Brackenfur's newfound stubbornness. He clearly learned that from Yellowfang, not him. "It's my responsibility to make sure that they were gone," he told Brackenfur. "I'm sorry."

Brackenfur flicked his tail. "Think nothing of it," he insisted. He looked at Tinyclaw quizzically. "How did you figure out they only left a few days ago?"

"I saw Graystripe," Tinyclaw explained.

Brackenfur's ears pricked. "Graystripe!" he repeated. "How is he?"

"Fine," Tinyclaw replied. "He swims like a fish now."

"Wow," Brackenfur mewed, amazed. "I never would have expected that, but StarClan wills as they will."

Tinyclaw chuckled. "I never thought of it either, considering he'd freeze up whenever we were near -" A loud growling from his stomach cut him off. Tinyclaw flicked an ear, embarrassed.

Brackenfur's whiskers twitched with amusement. "Go eat," he told Tinyclaw. "You've said what you wanted to say. Best you eat before Yellowfang takes what's left."

Tinyclaw leaned down and licked between Brackenfur's ears. "Thank you," he said.

"Anytime," Brackenfur meowed back.

Tinyclaw turned away and headed for the fresh-kill pile. Yellowfang had left him with a squirrel or a pigeon. Tinyclaw took the squirrel, then looked about the clearing for a place to eat. His pelt prickled as he sensed Sandstorm watching him. Her slender body was stretched out in the shade near the warrior's den, her tail wrapped around her hind legs.

Swallowing, Tinyclaw stared back. Blue eyes met green, and Tinyclaw felt his heart begin to pound in his ears. His stomach churned, too. Looking at Sandstorm seemed to make his entire body whirl in a storm, and yet… everything felt so calm and serene. He could never deny the way Sandstorm made the fur along his spine tingle – she had since they were apprentices. And the very thought that she might have feelings for him… nothing seemed to matter but that.

He padded over and sat beside her, fur pressing together. His heart stilled as she pressed close and began to purr. Tinyclaw didn't think a pigeon could taste so good.

The serenity was broken, shattered like ice, by a sudden caterwauling. Tinyclaw lurched to his paws, Sandstorm bristling beside him as Mousefur and Longtail burst into the clearing. Their fur was matted with blood, and Longtail was limping badly.

Tinyclaw swallowed hard what little pigeon he'd managed and demanded, "What happened? Where are Runningwind and Thornpaw?" The whole Clan seemed to gather behind him, bristling and hissing in fear of attack. Yellowfang and Brackenfur both rushed up to Mousefur and Longtail.

"I don't know," Mousefur panted. "We were attacked!"

"By whom?" Tinyclaw asked frantically.

Longtail shook his head. "W-We don't know!" he insisted.

"They were in the shadows," Mousefur breathed. "They hid their scent well, and…"

"The Thunderpath," Longtail finished. "We were by the Thunderpath."

"Go with Yellowfang," Tinyclaw told Longtail. The striped warrior was swaying on his paws. Mousefur was in a better sort. "Mousefur, you lead me to where this happened. Whitestorm!" The white warrior appeared from the crowd. "You'll come with me."

"What about us?" Dustpelt wondered.

"You and Sandstorm stay here," Tinyclaw insisted. "This might be a ploy to lead our warriors away from camp. It's happened before." Tigerstar was on his last life – Tinyclaw could take no risks in leaving the camp undefended.

He charged out of camp with Whitestorm and Mousefur streaming behind him. Mousefur panted behind him, but together they scrambled up the ravine and headed for the Thunderpath.

Tinyclaw regretfully slowed his pace when he saw Mousefur was struggling to keep up – "As quick as you can!" he urged. She had to be hurt after the battle, but there was little time. Runningwind and Thornpaw were in great danger, and Tinyclaw feared something terrible had happened to them.

 _What if the ShadowClan cats had tricked me?_ He wondered suddenly. His heart dropped. _They were in our territory for so long…_ What if they were using their knowledge to plan an attack? Tinyclaw surged forward, heading for the break in the trees that signaled the Thunderpath.

"No, this way!" Mousefur called. She pushed past Tinyclaw and headed off to the side, veering towards Fourtrees. Tinyclaw and Whitestorm followed.

As they raced through the trees, Tinyclaw realized he had been this way before – this was the path that Littlecloud and Whitethroat took. This way led to the tunnel beneath the Thunderpath. Had a ShadowClan raiding party come through?

Mousefur skidded to a halt between two ash trees. The Thunderpath reeked ahead, and down the sloping path lay the weed-choked little valley and the Twoleg tunnel. In the weeds stood Whitethroat. The black-and-white tom was stock-still, looking down in terror at the two bodies before him. One was Thornpaw, the other Runningwind. Both were ominously still.

The ShadowClan cat's eyes widened as he finally noticed the cats on the hill. Whitethroat began backing away from the bodies, wailing, "They're dead! T-They're _dead!"_

Rage boiled up in Tinyclaw – was _this_ how ShadowClan warriors repaid kindness? He lunged at Whitethroat, yowling in anger, with no regard for what Whitestorm or Mousefur were doing. His claws were out and he rushed at Whitethroat. In terror, Whitethroat screeched and bolted – not through the tunnel, but up the hill and towards the Thunderpath.

Tinyclaw chased Whitethroat through the brambles, thorns tearing at his fur, until they broke through into the sunlight. The Thunderpath loomed ahead, the grass oily beneath Tinyclaw's paws. Whitethroat stood at the verge, staring at Tinyclaw in terror.

"I-I didn't do it!" he insisted. "I-I didn't!"

Tinyclaw only growled. Rage pulsed through his head like a heartbeat. He took a step forward.

Whitethroat stumbled backward. "I-I swear by S-StarClan!" he cried.

" _Beware an enemy that seems to sleep…"_

Tinyclaw took another step. _I should have driven them off as soon as I saw them!_ He told himself. _I should have never let Brackenfur wrap me around his tail! I…_

" _Beware!"_

Whitestorm stumbled onto the Thunderpath as Redtail's voice shocked the anger out of Tinyclaw, driving it away like… like…

The world rumbled. Too late, Tinyclaw sheathed his claws and lunged – but the monster roared past, and Tinyclaw's paws met the stones of the Thunderpath. Silence settled on the forest.

A ragged shape lay on the Thunderpath, a spray of blood patterning the stones beyond. The monster had hit Whitethroat.

Tinyclaw staggered onto the Thunderpath, looking down at the body. Bile rose, but Tinyclaw forced it back. Whitethroat just… lay there, eyes wide open in terror, paws splayed and… blood everywhere.

"Why…?" Tinyclaw whispered vainly. "Why did you attack us?"

The black-and-white warrior could give no reply. The world rumbled, and Tinyclaw held himself to the stones with his claws as monsters roared past on the far end of the Thunderpath. When they were gone, the world descended into silence again.

Tinyclaw turned himself away. There were… things to do. Things he had to do. _Runningwind_ and _Thornpaw… no… who could have…?_

" _No matter what you do, sometimes it is not enough."_

A flash of red caught his eye, and Tinyclaw spotted a faded Redtail standing at the verge of the Thunderpath. The tortoiseshell tom was not looking at him – but in another direction, so severely that Tinyclaw's eyes _had_ to follow.

There, in the brambles near the Thunderpath, stood the answer.

Bluefur.


	18. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

 _Tinyclaw felt rooted to the_ Thunderpath. There stood Bluefur, his enemy, his former mentor, and a danger to all who called themselves ThunderClan. There was no pretense or pretend here – she was an exile, a cot ordered to be killed on sight. And she had just killed two more ThunderClan cats.

"Tell me, Tinyclaw," she called from the other side of the Thunderpath. The sunset caused dark shadows to bleed out from the trees like dark tabby stripes. "Is chasing hapless cats to their deaths the best you can do for ThunderClan?"

Tinyclaw's snarl of rage was lost in the roar of another monster. Tinyclaw sprang at Bluefur, claws extended, catching her on the shoulder as she tried to dodge. Tinyclaw landed on his paws and whirled around, lashing out again and clipping her chest fur.

Bluefur was stunned by the sudden attack – Tinyclaw sprang again, bowling her down and getting a good grip on the blue-gray she-cat. He could feel every one of her ribs beneath her pelt. Exile had clearly not done her much good – but it certainly had not diminished her strength. Soon enough Bluefur had Tinyclaw driven against the ground, fighting for breath.

Tinyclaw yowled in pain as Bluefur's claws seemed to dig right into his bones. Bluefur leaned down, her blue eyes blazing as she hissed: "You mark me, Tinyclaw – I will kill you; but not after I have killed every one of your warriors!"

Fear roiled in Tinyclaw's belly, a cold rush despite the heat of the evening. Bluefur meant every word – Tinyclaw had no reason to doubt her, not with both Runningwind and Thornpaw dead not far from the Thunderpath. The fear made him suddenly aware of his surroundings – strange scents flooded the area, indicating more cats. But whom? There were no scents Tinyclaw recognized.

He saw a flash of dark ginger – he'd seen that she-cat before. She was one of Brokentail's rogues, driven away with her monstrous leader. Had Bluefur taken command of Brokentail's former forces? And beyond that… had Littlecloud and Whitethroat joined Bluefur instead of returning to their disease-ridden Clan?

Tinyclaw shook the thoughts away – there was no time for this. He forced his hind paws into Bluefur's soft belly fur, pushing her off of him. Bluefur must have underestimated Tinyclaw's growing strength thanks to practice – she all but slithered off of him, growling. Tinyclaw pushed himself to his paws just as Whitestorm and Mousefur broke through the undergrowth to meet Bluefur's allies in battle.

 _Darkstripe?_ Tinyclaw wondered. _Where is he?_ He hadn't long to pick out the cats individually – Bluefur had grasped his hindquarters between her powerful paws and dragged him back to the ground. Tinyclaw groaned as he hit the dirt, but slashed with his claws against the dry ground. He did not hit Bluefur – but he sprayed up dust that fluttered into her vision. Bluefur reeled back, hissing.

Using the opportunity, Tinyclaw lunged through the dust, bowling her over again. Together they rolled, clawing and biting and scratching one another towards the Thunderpath. If Bluefur had any more threats or one-liners, Tinyclaw was keeping her focused on the fight instead.

Finally Bluefur summoned a strength Tinyclaw wasn't sure she had to push him off of her. Tinyclaw landed in the dirt, and before he could react a dark shadow folded over him – Bluefur had reared onto her hind legs, her claws and teeth bared for a final blow. Tinyclaw's limbs froze, unable to move.

Yet they did not seem to have to – just as Bluefur was about to crash down upon him, a shape burst from the undergrowth and slammed into Bluefur crosswise, bundling her away. A thickset, large, _gray_ shape…

Graystripe!

Tinyclaw scrambled to his paws. Graystripe! With his friend's arrival came a full patrol of RiverClan warriors – Leopardfur, Brambleclaw, Blackclaw… slowly but surely the outnumbered ThunderClan cats were joined by their allies, and the rogues began to back off, shocked at the sudden burst of reinforcements.

Tinyclaw leaped, lunging at Bluefur. She and Graystripe were wrestling, scoring claws down each other's pelts. Tinyclaw joined in, pressing his side against Graystripe's as the two raised their forepaws and created a wall of claws that drove Bluefur into a clump of thorns.

Bluefur hissed, trapped – but all around her, her rogues were fleeing into across the Thunderpath and into the lands beyond. She glared at Graystripe and Tinyclaw, blue eyes furious flames.

"This isn't over," she hissed.

"You aren't going -"

Graystripe's proclamation was cut off as Bluefur swept her paw across the dirt. Dust sprang up, causing Tinyclaw and Graystripe to shut their eyes lest they be exposed. When the dust settled, Tinyclaw opened his eye a crack – Bluefur was gone.

"What a snake!" Graystripe coughed.

"It doesn't matter now," Tinyclaw grumbled. His claws itched to chase after her – but this was not the time. There was too much that mattered right now. "Graystripe… how did you…?"

"How did we know?" Graystripe grunted. "We heard you yowling from Fourtrees."

"He insisted on coming," Brambleclaw commented, his amber eyes flashing. Tinyclaw had to stop himself from staring so intently at Tigerstar's son, who was all but a copy of his father. Those intense eyes flickered over Tinyclaw. "Who knows what would have happened if we hadn't been here?"

Tinyclaw shook his head. He didn't want to think about it. Beyond, Leopardfur was helping Mousefur to her paws, and Blackclaw was pacing around Whitestorm. Both ThunderClan warriors were wounded, but they would make it back to camp just fine.

Once Mousefur was to her paws, Leopardfur threw an accusing glare at Tinyclaw. "That was _Bluefur,"_ she hissed. "Why was _she_ fighting you?"

Tinyclaw swallowed. "That is none of RiverClan's business," he growled.

Leopardfur's neck fur bristled. "It is when those rogues could be a threat to RiverClan!" the deputy spat. She glared at Graystripe. "What do you know of this?"

Graystripe narrowed his eyes. "It's ThunderClan's business," he grunted. "I'm a _RiverClan_ cat now."

Leopardfur opened her jaws, but Brambleclaw grunted, "Oh, leave it, Leopardfur. This was a chance encounter. I doubt those rogues want anything to do with us."

If Leopardfur cared, she didn't show it. She turned about quickly with a lash of her spotted tail. "Let's be off, then," she growled. Brambleclaw and Blackclaw trailed after her – but Graystripe threw Tinyclaw an apologetic look before joining the patrol.

When the RiverClan cats were gone, Tinyclaw realized that Whitestorm and Mousefur were staring expectantly at him. Tinyclaw pushed away thoughts of how it would be so much easier if Graystripe were still ThunderClan. No time for that now. "Go and see Runningwind and Thornpaw," he said somberly. "See if they're really…"

Whitestorm and Mousefur exchanged a glance. Mousefur looked particularly torn, her eyes welling with sadness. Both her brother _and_ her apprentice. Great StarClan, Bluefur was a _monster_.

 _No matter what I do, sometimes it is not enough._

"I'll join your shortly," Tinyclaw offered. He looked out at the Thunderpath. "There's something I need to do first."


	19. Chapter 17

**Sorry for the lack of updates; been in and out of town for the past few weeks, and I've been tired from travel. Updates on stuff coming soon!**

* * *

 **Chapter 17**

 _The smell of Bluefur and_ her rogues was still fresh in the air as Tinyclaw padded out onto the Thunderpath. His paws felt heavy as stone, and though the world was quiet in the calm after the battle, his mind was buzzing with distress.

Now that the battle had cleared, Tinyclaw was catching faint ShadowClan scent here and there, faint but stronger than it should be. His stomach twisted. _Were there ShadowClan cats with Bluefur?_ He thought. _How many, and why? Is the state of their Clan so dire that they would abandon it to join her?_

Tinyclaw swallowed. He had to be confused by the monsters stirring up ShadowClan scent along the border. He had to be.

Whitethroat's body still lay in a spray of his own blood, broken and twisted from the monster that struck him. Tinyclaw gently took the tom's scruff in his jaws and began dragging him to the ShadowClan side of the Thunderpath verge.

 _Why did you join her?_ He thought. _You and Littlecloud had the cure for you Clanmates in your paws! Why?_

There were too many questions. Tinyclaw settled Whitethroat down in a clump of bushes just outside ShadowClan's scent markings. They would find him there – and only StarClan could judge him now.

* * *

By the time Tinyclaw returned the moon was casting its light down upon the clearing – down upon the bodies of Runningwind and Thornpaw as they lay stretched out in the grass. Mousefur lay between them, her head bowed in mourning for her brother and apprentice, and though her friends were settled with her for comfort, Mousefur would mourn longest of all tonight, and all the nights to follow.

Aside from the mourners, Tigerstar was pacing around the bodies, his great head swinging from side to side as he looked upon the bodies. The rest of the Clan stuck to the shadows, as if they dared not get in their leader's way. Tinyclaw's stomach twisted at the sight of Tigerstar, who would have once hid his grief with dignity and pride. Now it seemed like Tigerstar cared little for putting on a show of strength to the Clan.

Tinyclaw approached Tigerstar, feeling every eye in the Clan on him. As he drew closer, Tinyclaw saw the panic and fear in Tigerstar's eyes. _I can't blame him,_ Tinyclaw decided as he halted before his leader. _A warrior and apprentice were just murdered._ Tinyclaw had no idea how he'd react, if the same happened under his leadership.

He hoped it would never came to that.

"They say Bluefur did this," Tigerstar rasped.

"It could have easily been one of her rogues," Tinyclaw offered.

Tigerstar's eyes could not go wider. "How many are there?" he demanded.

"I don't know," Tinyclaw answered with a tired sigh. "There were too many, and the battle happened so quickly…"

Tigerstar growled and began shaking his head, to and fro. Tinyclaw swallowed. Regardless of whether or not Tigerstar wanted to hear it, he needed to know as many details as could be recalled. Tinyclaw meowed, "Bluefur stated during the battle that she would kill as many of ThunderClan as she could, one by one, until none were left."

The Clan behind him exploded into horrified yowls. For a moment, Tinyclaw wondered if Tigerstar would join them – but the great tabby tom only stood stock-still, his eyes filled with some shattered emotion that Tinyclaw could not identify.

Gradually, the Clan fell silent along with their leader. Tinyclaw willed and prayed for Tigerstar to face this open declaration of war with the strength the leader had to have still inside – but Tigerstar was silent. The only sound was the call of an owl as it dove through the trees.

Finally, Tigerstar meowed, "It is I that she wants," he growled. "For the good of the Clan, I must -"

"No!" Tinyclaw insisted. He planted himself firmly before Tigerstar. How could he even suggest such a thing? "She wants _all_ of ThunderClan, not just you." It was half a lie – Bluefur wanted to kill Tinyclaw last of all, after she made sure he watched everyone he loved die around him. But Tigerstar did not need to know that.

Tigerstar dropped his head to hiss, "Such vicious betrayal! How could I have not seen his treachery when it was plain before my eyes?" His voice trembled. "Oh, what a fool I am…"

Tinyclaw swallowed. Tigerstar was blaming himself – and would – as if there were no other circumstances that had kept him from seeing this coming. Nothing Tinyclaw could say or do would stop that. With a jolt that made him feel suddenly ill, Tinyclaw realized he would have to take charge.

"The camp must be guarded from sunup to sundown," he decided. He looked over the gathered cats. "Oakheart, you take watch until moonhigh. Frostfur – you take over then." Both chosen cats nodded, Oakheart himself with a fearsome look in his eye. He would not let Bluefur by unnoticed.

Tinyclaw looked over to the bodies. There was no way he could ever tell Mousefur to leave. "Mousefur and the elders will bury Runningwind and Thornpaw at dawn," he decided. "Tigerstar will sit vigil with Mousefur until then." He wondered if Tigerstar had even heard him – the big tabby was only staring at the ground.

"I shall sit with him," Whitestorm declared. The white warrior padded up to Tigerstar, gave him a lick between the ears, and pressed his pelt against the Clan leader. Tigerstar looked up hazily at the sight of the old warrior, and together they settled down to mourn, tails twined together.

One by one the Clan began to pay their respects. Apprentices licked Thornpaw's fur, murmuring good-byes, while other warriors flocked around Runningwind. Frostfur herself came to Thornpaw's side, pressing her nose into her son's pelt and shivering with grief. Oakheart bent his head to say good-bye to Runningwind, and as the big warrior padded off to take watch Tinyclaw was suddenly glad his kits – Bluefur's kits – were nowhere in sight.

Tinyclaw's turn came finally, and he gave each body a lick upon their cheek. He stood between both, eyes flickering between them before he murmured, "I will avenge you – _both_ of you."

It was all too unsettling. Tinyclaw turned away and headed for the medicine cat's den, a place he knew he could find comfort. As if coming into this place of healing had woken up his body, Tinyclaw felt his wounds begin to sting as he passed through the ferns. Yellowfang and Brackenfur were inside, chatting quietly – Brackenfur was looking shaken. Thornpaw had been one of his brothers.

They both looked up when Tinyclaw appeared. "What is it, Tinyclaw?" Yellowfang wondered, her tone protective, as if she were huddled over her own kit.

Brackenfur gave Yellowfang a look, and then got to his paws. He limped over to Tinyclaw, sniffing along the black tom's side with a face forced into its usual place. He meowed, "Tinyclaw has some deep scratches – Yellowfang, can you get some horsetail and cobweb before they get infected?"

For once, Yellowfang did not seem to mind being bossed about. The old gray she-cat got to her paws with a nod and padded into the split rock.

When she was gone, Brackenfur stared Tinyclaw straight in the eye. "He's dead," he murmured.

Tinyclaw nodded.

"My brother is dead," Brackenfur breathed, "and I saw nothing."

Tinyclaw frowned. "Brackenfur, you can't see everything in the stars – not even StarClan can."

Brackenfur looked away. "I know," he said. "I know." Looking back at Tinyclaw, he meowed, "But if you had the ability to save your Clanmates, wouldn't you like to control when it worked?"

"I suppose," Tinyclaw agreed sympathetically.

"Tigerstar should never have allowed Bluefur to leave the camp," Brackenfur decided, lashing his tail. "He should have killed Bluefur – or you should have, or someone…"

"You _know_ Tigerstar would never order something like that," Tinyclaw told the medicine cat. "He would never kill anyone in cold blood."

"But _why_ this?" Brackenfur demanded. "Why come back now, and why kill those she once fought beside?"

Tinyclaw blinked. "She wants to kill as many of us as she can," he told Brackenfur plainly.

"But _why?"_ Brackenfur insisted. "Why this senseless murder? Why not go and live in peace, away from all of us? Why continue to harass ThunderClan when all has been said and done?"

Tinyclaw flicked his tail. "Because ThunderClan did not give her what she wanted," he replied.

"Which was?"

"To be leader," Tinyclaw answered.

"Fat chance of that now!" Brackenfur spat. "We would all rather die than accept her as our leader – I know _I_ would! If she wants to be leader, murdering our cats is not the way to do it!"

Tinyclaw frowned doubtfully. Brackenfur's passionate opinion – and the opinions of others – might remain, but it didn't change the facts. Tigerstar was clearly not the same cat he had been. He was weak. And Bluefur… Bluefur was strong enough to kill not one cat, but two. The Clan's deep fear of Bluefur might end up being what makes her the leader she wanted to be.

"Do you really believe that?" Tinyclaw asked quietly.

Brackenfur narrowed his eyes. "I believe in StarClan, and the path they have laid down for us," he meowed sternly.

"And if Bluefur is ThunderClan's leader down that path?" Tinyclaw insisted. "What if they want -"

Brackenfur's entire being bristled. He rounded on Tinyclaw, snarling, "StarClan would _never-_ "

"StarClan would never what?"

Both toms looked up as Yellowfang padded out from the cleft in the rock. Herbs were packed into her jaws, but somehow she could still speak – medicine cats must be experts at finding out how to do that. Yellowfang laid her bundle down beside Tinyclaw, looking at the toms. "What's gotten you both all ruffled up now?"

"Yellowfang," Brackenfur meowed, still bristling, "do you think StarClan would ever let Bluefur be ThunderClan's leader?"

Yellowfang eyed both toms for a moment. Then, she suddenly found her herbs quite interesting. Finally, staring down at the bundle, she replied: "StarClan or no, Bluefur has the strength of ambition to become whatever she wants to be."


	20. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

" _Not as long as we_ live!" Brackenfur grunted. "Not as long as StarClan watches over us!"

Tinyclaw saw the conviction in his gaze, and a warmth at his faith spread through him. Yellowfang nudged her apprentice. "Take some chamomile to Tigerstar and Mousefur. They'll need something to ease their nerves," the old she-cat rasped.

Brackenfur flicked an ear at her. "Of course," he meowed, his tone lowering. He got to his paws and padded about to get to his orders. When he was gone, Yellowfang ran her nose along Tinyclaw's pelt, sniffing here and there.

"Where does it hurt?" she asked.

"This is the worst," Tinyclaw meowed, nodding to a bite on his shoulder.

Yellowfang nodded. She shuffled with some loose leaves at her paws. She chewed them and began applying the mixture to Tinyclaw's wounds. "Tigerstar is shaken, you know," she murmured.

Tinyclaw winced at the juices. "I know," he muttered. "The whole Clan is. _I_ am. Thornpaw _and_ Runningwind?"

"It is a hard weight to bear," Yellowfang meowed.

"I thought I was prepared," Tinyclaw breathed. "I increased the patrols and did everything I could, and yet they still died. What could I have done?"

He knew what she would say before she said it: "Sometimes, Tinyclaw, you can do everything possible and still lose." Yellowfang slathered the mixture onto his other scratches. That stung less than her words. "StarClan wills what it wills."

"I'm going to increase patrols," Tinyclaw decided. _Somehow._ "Speed up apprentice training." With Runningwind and Thornpaw gone, it would be hard – but he could not let this tragedy happen again. _And with Cloudpaw gone, too, that's one less warrior to help defend the Clan._ He wailed internally at the crisis. "I won't let this happen again."

Yellowfang was patting the last of the poultice on his wounds. She faced him now, her orange eyes level and burning. She touched her nose to his and breathed, "Be strong, Tinyclaw. No cat could have done more than you have… the whole Clan needs you now, more than ever."

Tinyclaw frowned. "What happens if I am not strong enough?" he wondered quietly.

Yellowfang shook her head. "You _are,_ " she insisted. "You are capable of great things, Tinyclaw."

Tinyclaw shook his head. "Then why do I feel like a failure?" he murmured.

Yellowfang licked him between the ears. The gesture felt like a mother consoling her kit, and Tinyclaw wanted nothing more than to curl up with Yellowfang and forget about everything. But his Clan needed him. With his wounds patched, Tinyclaw turned away and put his thoughts towards the patrols.

He nearly ran straight into Oakheart. The dark-colored warrior took a step back, flicking his tail. "Sorry," he meowed.

"It's all right," Tinyclaw assured him. He flicked an ear at Oakheart, taking a deep breath. "Tell the Clan there will be three extra patrols every day. Tomorrow you'll take one right after the dawn patrol returns."

Oakheart frowned. "I was going to take Fernpaw hunting," he meowed.

"She can go with you," Tinyclaw told him. "The apprentice's training is going to be sped up, anyway."

Oakheart's frown deepened. Concern flashed across his face. "Yes, deputy," he meowed quietly.

* * *

Tinyclaw pushed his way into Tigerstar's den. It was not even sunhigh and he'd already been on two patrols – not only that, but he was taking Swiftpaw out hunting later. The days since Runningwind and Thornpaw's deaths had been busy to say the least. Every warrior was patrolling or hunting, and sleeping when brief breaks allowed. Apprentices were working just as hard, training and hunting and patrolling. With Cloudpaw gone, Whitestorm reluctant to leave Tigerstar's side, and Willowpelt and Frostfur in the nursery, Tinyclaw was having a hard time finding the cats he needed for patrols.

Tigerstar was crouched in his nest, his eyes slits. His fur was matted and ungroomed – for a moment, Tinyclaw wondered if he'd caught the ShadowClan sickness. He sat so still, it seemed like he was just waiting for something to creep up on him and end it all.

"Tigerstar," Tinyclaw quietly called.

Tigerstar turned to him, his eyes half-open.

"We have been patrolling the forest constantly," Tinyclaw reported. "There has been no sign of Bluefur or her rogues."

Tinyclaw wondered if he ought to say more – but Tigerstar turned away. No reply. Tigerstar just drew further into himself, hunching over and looking like a cat wanting nothing more than to just… be done. Tinyclaw sighed. He dipped his head and left the den.

Outside it was as sunny as it had ever been, not a cloud in the sky. The camp was empty, but it seemed peaceful: Cinderpelt was playing with Oakheart's kits outside the nursery, flicking her thick tail for them to follow while she looked at them fondly. Whitestorm sat in the shade of the Highrock, watching the Clan. Only the way his ears were pinned towards Tigerstar's den betrayed any strain.

Tinyclaw looked at the fresh-kill pile. All the patrolling and hunting had made it possible to create quite the pile – but Tinyclaw had little appetite. Sandstorm was there, picking at a mouse – the sight of her sleek pelt made Tinyclaw's limbs quiver, and suddenly he knew he wanted nothing more than to have her by his side. His stomach growled, and Tinyclaw decided he would leave the fresh-kill for others to share. He wanted nothing more than to chase prey with Sandstorm.

At that moment the gorse tunnel quivered, and Swiftpaw padded into camp behind Mousefur, Frostfur, and Halftail, all of them carried moss so soaked through with water their chests dripped. Swiftpaw carried his right to Tigerstar's den, under Whitestorm's appreciative gaze.

Tinyclaw turned to Sandstorm. "You said you'd catch me a rabbit whenever I asked," he called. "Think you may want to hunt with Swiftpaw and I?"

Sandstorm looked up from her meal. Her eyes shone as they met his, a message unspoken that made Tinyclaw's pelt quiver. "Of course," she meowed back. She swallowed the last of her mouse and got to her paws, trotting towards Tinyclaw.

They waited side by side for Swiftpaw, their pelts barely touching. Tinyclaw's heart beat in his ears so hard he thought the whole camp could hear.

When Swiftpaw came out of Tigerstar's den, Tinyclaw called to him: "Are you ready to go hunting?"

"N-Now?" he meowed, surprised.

"It's not sunhigh yet, but we can go if you're not too tired," Tinyclaw told him.

Swiftpaw nodded. "I'm all right – let's go!" he meowed eagerly.

Tinyclaw nodded and the three cats trotted out of camp. With Swiftpaw on their heels, Tinyclaw and Sandstorm raced up the ravine and into the woods. Sandstorm overtook him easily, and Tinyclaw was fine with that – he loved seeing the way her muscles flexed beneath her pelt, lit by the sunshine. She was as tired as he was, surely, but she kept her mouth open and muscles tense in search of prey.

"Got one!" she hissed. The group immediately stopped as Sandstorm lowered herself into a crouch.

Tinyclaw scanned the undergrowth – there! A rabbit in a more open patch, nibbling on a seed. Sandstorm was creeping towards it, but it had plenty of avenues for escape. Tinyclaw pressed himself to the ground and crept around the other side of the rabbit, tense and waiting to strike. Swiftpaw waited, watching with wide yellow eyes.

Sandstorm leaped – but she missed, and the rabbit bolted, right into Tinyclaw's paws. He caught it in his jaws and ended its life, thanking StarClan for filling the forest with prey despite the drought. Sandstorm padded up to him, her whiskers twitching appreciatively.

"Thanks," she breathed, "I'm a bit slow today."

"You're tired," Tinyclaw told her. He wondered if he should have let her rest.

Sandstorm's eyes narrowed. "We all are," she said, "and so are you."

"We all need rest."

"You've been twice as busy as anyone else," Sandstorm told him.

"There's a lot to do," Tinyclaw told her. "I don't have to train Cloudpaw right now – I have a lot more spare time on my paws than most."

Cloudpaw's loss pricked at Tinyclaw more and more lately, now that the Clan needed her more than ever. He hadn't seen hide nor hair of her, as if that monster had taken her into the abyss. He wished it weren't so – he hoped more and more that she would turn up at camp, scared and in need of forgiveness. He missed her.

 _What if her disappearance makes the Clan lose faith in me, because I was a kittypet too?_ Tinyclaw had that thought more than once. The reason he worked himself so hard was to prove that he _was_ a good warrior, that he was worthy of ThunderClan.

Sandstorm's eyes softened. She seemed to see his anxiety – how could she not, when it prickled her pelt at night? "Let me help more," she said quietly. "Please, there has to be something I can do…" her tone had a hint of bitterness. "I don't have an apprentice either, after all."

Tinyclaw frowned at her. Seeing Dustpelt with Ashpaw must have pricked her pride a little. He felt a twinge of guilt. He almost said he was sorry – but Sandstorm would have had no idea he'd been the one to choose the mentors. She would have assumed that Tigerstar had picked them, like everyone else.

Yet he was tired, and the look on her face… "I'm sorry," he meowed. "Tigerstar asked me to choose Ashpaw and Fernpaw's mentors. I chose Dustpelt instead of you, and…"

"It's fine," Sandstorm told him. "As much as I would have liked an apprentice, I think Oakheart needed Fernpaw more than I did, and Ashpaw has been really good for Dustpelt. I know you had your reasons." Her pelt prickled nonetheless.

An awkward silence stretched out until Swiftpaw trudged through the undergrowth and asked, "Did you get it?"

Suddenly Tinyclaw realized how tired Swiftpaw looked – he was a stocky cat, but he was as worn as anyone else. He remembered how hard it was to keep up with the bigger warriors when he was an apprentice. Tinyclaw pushed the rabbit towards him. "Have the first bite," he offered. "I should have given you time to eat before we left."

Swiftpaw nodded and began to eat. Sandstorm suggested, "Maybe you could order fewer patrols? We haven't seen Bluefur since the attack."

She sounded hopeful – but Tinyclaw knew she didn't believe it inside. Every cat was as tense as a rabbit now, from dawn to dusk and on every patrol. Even in camp it felt like every cat was on constant vigil. Every cat knew Bluefur would not give up so easily – she would have her revenge; it was all a matter of when.

He could also sense their growing frustration. Tigerstar had not left his den since the attack. The Clan needed him just as much as they needed Tinyclaw. A leader gave their Clan direction and hope, and Tigerstar was doing none of that.

"We have to be on our guard," Tinyclaw meowed. "You know I can't cut down on patrols."

"Do… do you really think Bluefur will kill us?" Swiftpaw murmured.

Tinyclaw glanced at the young cat. Thornpaw had been his brother, and Bluefur had killed him. He had to be suffering far more than he let on, like Brackenfur and Cinderpelt and Frostfur.

"I think she'll try," Tinyclaw answered. There was no point trying to patronize him.

"What does Tigerstar think?" Sandstorm wondered.

"He's worried, of course," Tinyclaw replied. Worried was an understatement. Only Tinyclaw and Whitestorm understood the force with which Bluefur's return had shaken Tigerstar. He was back to that dark place he'd gone when Bluefur had tried to murder him the first time.

"He's lucky he has a good deputy," Sandstorm meowed. "Every cat in the Clan trusts you to help lead us through this."

Tinyclaw was not blind to that. He'd seen the looks his Clanmates gave him – hopeful, full of a temporary relief. They expected so much of him, Tinyclaw could feel it on his shoulders like an enemy pinning him down into the dirt. How could he meet so many expectations? How could he give them that hope, when he felt like breaking down himself?

"I hope I can," Tinyclaw breathed.

"I know you will," Sandstorm meowed, licking him between the ears.

Tinyclaw nodded towards the rabbit. "Let's finish this and find something else," he meowed.

The three cats polished off the rabbit and then headed further into the territory. They traveled without speaking, eyes and ears open for anything – prey, or a threat.

An unfamiliar scent drifted down through the sticky air. Tinyclaw tensed, and the group followed suit. They were near the slope that led down to Fourtrees, thick with undergrowth. Sandstorm and Swiftpaw tensed behind him.

"Up here!" Swiftpaw suggested, nodding towards a sycamore. Tinyclaw nodded in agreement, and the three cats shot up the tree. Balancing on its branches gave Tinyclaw a good view of the surrounding area – and the intruder.

A sleek black shape weaved through the undergrowth, black ears poking up through the bushes. That scent wafted up to Tinyclaw, stirring a feeling in his mind. Was this some cat he had helped before from another Clan? Tinyclaw didn't know, and with Bluefur lurking he could not take that risk. With a yowl he plunged down onto the intruder, claws bared.

The black cat yowled in shock, knocking Tinyclaw away before he could grab hold. Tinyclaw had felt this cats' size and strength already – he would be easy to beat off. He faced the stranger, back arched and a vicious hiss forming. Sandstorm and Swiftpaw leaped down from the tree, surrounding him on all sides.

But even as their faces held hostility, Tinyclaw's spine was lying flat. He _did_ recognize this intruder… and as the black cat locked eyes with Tinyclaw, the intruder recognized Tinyclaw as well.

Tinyclaw had to be sure. He asked, "Ravenpaw?"


	21. Chapter 19

**Swiftpaw took the place of Brightpaw in this AU, making him Thornpaw's brother! Frostfur had Thornpaw, Swiftpaw, Cinderpelt, and Brackenfur in this series. Speckletail is the mother of Brightpaw and Snowkit! I hope that helps clear it up a little!**

* * *

 **Chapter 19**

" _Ravenpaw!" Tinyclaw purred. He pressed_ his muzzle into the sleek black tom's flanks.

"Tinyclaw," Ravenpaw greeted warmly. He returned the nuzzle, lingering with a purr. "It's so good to see you – and… and this can't be Sandpaw, can it? Tinyclaw, she's bigger than you!"

Tinyclaw flattened his ears. "That's not really an accomplishment," he reminded Ravenpaw curtly. Ravenpaw's whiskers twitched in amusement.

"It's Sand _storm_ now," Sandstorm corrected gently.

"Oh," Ravenpaw mewed. "I see – then Dustpaw is…?"

"Dustpelt," Sandstorm answered.

Ravenpaw's ear flicked. Tinyclaw could understand his mixed feelings – Ravenpaw and Dustpelt were littermates, but the two never got along and in fact, Dustpelt and Sandstorm often jeered and teased Ravenpaw. The fact that Dustpelt didn't seem too affected by Ravenpaw leaving was enough to show that they didn't have a good relationship. _Dustpelt might feel differently now that Cinderpelt seems to be mellowing him out…_ Tinyclaw guessed.

"How is he?" Ravenpaw wondered.

"He's fine," Sandstorm replied. "He has his own apprentice now – it keeps him rather busy." Sandstorm peered at Ravenpaw with those green eyes. "He's changed, Ravenpaw. Just a little – but he's not the same Dustpelt anymore."

Ravenpaw swallowed, nodding. "I'm not the same Ravenpaw, either," the black tom said quietly. He cleared his throat, eyes flickering over to Swiftpaw. "Is this your apprentice, then?"

Tinyclaw tried to hide his wince. Sandstorm's reply made his stomach twist. "No," she said tonelessly. "This is Swiftpaw – he's Whitestorm's apprentice. I don't have an apprentice yet."

Silence hovered over them. A warm breeze ruffled Tinyclaw's pelt, and suddenly he realized that they were out in the open, exposed. His eyes darted about, scanning the undergrowth for any sign of Bluefur and her rogues. "What are you doing here, Ravenpaw?" Tinyclaw asked urgently.

Ravenpaw turned away from studying Sandstorm to tilt his head and meow, "I was looking for you, Tinyclaw."

"For me?" Tinyclaw wondered, frowning. "Why?" Whatever it was, it had to be important to bring Ravenpaw back to the forest – the young cat had fled ThunderClan as an apprentice to escape Bluefur. Being the Clan leader's apprentice didn't save him from being one of her targets – especially when he had witnessed Bluefur murdering Redtail. Tinyclaw and Graystripe had taken him to the edge of Clan territory, and Ravenpaw now lived in an old Twoleg barn with a ratter named Barley.

"A cat has come to live at the edge of my territory," Ravenpaw explained. When Tinyclaw looked confused, Ravenpaw went on: "I came across her while I was hunting. She was frightened and lost, and she smelled of ThunderClan."

Tinyclaw's heart almost stopped. _Could it be…?_

"ThunderClan?" Sandstorm echoed.

Ravenpaw nodded. "I asked her if she came from over the uplands, but she didn't seem to have any idea where she was. I took her back to her nest; she said she was living there."

Sandstorm spared Tinyclaw a glance before asking, "So, she was a kittypet. Are you sure you smelled ThunderClan on her?"

Tinyclaw swallowed, watching Ravenpaw. _Please, StarClan,_ he prayed. _Let it be Cloudpaw…_

"I wouldn't forget the scent of the place I was born," Ravenpaw scoffed. "She didn't seem like the usual sort of kittypet, either – I think she was hoping I'd take her somewhere else. She didn't seem to like being with her Twolegs."

Ravenpaw looked at the patrol with a frown. "I couldn't get her scent out of my mind. When I tried to speak with her again, she was shut in – I haven't been able to talk to her since. I had to come and see what was going on."

Tinyclaw allowed himself to ask, "What color was she?"

His heart leaped into his throat as Ravenpaw answered, "Ginger and white, with a big, plumy white tail."

"That's Cloudpaw!" Swiftpaw decided immediately. "That _has_ to be her!"

"Then you know her?" Ravenpaw guessed, amber eyes wide. "I was right?"

Tinyclaw barely heard Ravenpaw's words, or Swiftpaw's squeak of delight. Cloudpaw was _safe_ , and closer than he thought! _StarClan, thank you! Thank you!_ He didn't think he could thank them enough. He got to his paws and put himself right before Ravenpaw, eye to eye.

"Was she OK? What did she say?" Tinyclaw wondered. "Was she hurt?"

Ravenpaw's eyes seemed to boggle at the questions. "W-Well, she was real lost," he reminded Tinyclaw. "I couldn't get much out of her, she was so disoriented."

"Of course," Tinyclaw decided, nodding. He looked back to Swiftpaw and Sandstorm. "She was taken in a Twoleg monster, and she's never seen Highstones. She has no idea how close she is to home!"

"That would explain why she was so upset," Ravenpaw agreed. "She was -"

"Upset?" Tinyclaw repeated. "Was she hurt?"

"No, no!" Ravenpaw offered. "She just seemed really miserable. I thought it'd cheer her up to go back to her Twolegs, but that seemed to make things worse. I would have apologized if I could have spoken to her again – that's why I came here, to figure out what's going on."

Tinyclaw swallowed, looking down at his paws. _I had hoped she was happy where she went,_ he thought. _But… she's not. She's scared, and confused, and hurt and… Oh, StarClan…_

"Did I… do the right thing?" Ravenpaw wondered, eyes flickering over the three cats. "Has this Cloudpaw been banished from the Clan?"

"No," Tinyclaw replied. "She was my apprentice – she was taken from the forest by Twolegs. She's my niece and I… I was beginning to think I'd never see her again."

Sandstorm turned her head to him, green eyes flashing. "What makes you think you _are_ going to see her again, Tinyclaw?" she wondered. "She's living beyond our territory in a _Twoleg_ nest."

"I'm going to go and get her!" Tinyclaw declared.

"Go and get her? Why?"

"You heard Ravenpaw, she's miserable!"

"Are you sure she wants rescuing?"

"Wouldn't you?"

" _I_ wouldn't need rescuing!" Sandstorm hissed. _"I_ wouldn't have been taking Twoleg food in the first place!"

Ravenpaw grunted in surprise – but he didn't dare interject.

"It would be good to have her back," Swiftpaw offered quietly. "We all miss her a lot." Tinyclaw hardly heard him – he was staring at Sandstorm, his tail lashing.

"You think Cloudpaw deserves to be there, all alone and unhappy?" Tinyclaw spat, his neck fur bristling. "Just because she made a stupid mistake?"

Sandstorm snorted. "That's not what I'm saying!" she growled back. "You don't even know for sure whether she _wants_ to come back!"

"Ravenpaw says she's miserable!" Tinyclaw repeated. Yet a doubt flickered through him. What if Cloudpaw was just getting used to things?

"Ravenpaw only spoke to her once," Sandstorm reminded Tinyclaw curtly. She looked at Ravenpaw. "Did she look upset when you saw her through the window?"

Ravenpaw's amber eyes flickered between Tinyclaw and Sandstorm, looking conflicted. Finally, he admitted, "It was hard to tell – she was eating."

Sandstorm's green gaze whipped back to Tinyclaw. "You see?" she said, "Cloudpaw has a home, and she has food. Do you really think she needs rescuing? What about the Clan? We need you here, not going off to rescue someone who probably doesn't need it. I say leave her there."

Tinyclaw stared at Sandstorm, his heart clenching. But she had planted her paws, her eyes glittering with determination. She was right, and she knew it. With the threat of Bluefur in the forest he couldn't risk leaving the Clan – especially not for the sake of a cat who had proven herself to be a lazy, arrogant apprentice.

And yet this opportunity hadn't come out of the blue for nothing. Tinyclaw's paws twitched. His heart told him he had to try – without Runningwind and Thornpaw, the Clan needed warriors, and Tinyclaw still believed deep down that Cloudpaw could make an amazing warrior.

"You can stay, then," he told her. "I have to go."

"And what if you do manage to bring her back?" Sandstorm wondered, her tail bristling. "Will she be safe here?"

Tinyclaw felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Would he be bringing Cloudpaw back just so she could be another victim for Bluefur to target? And yet, deep down, Tinyclaw had already decided. "I'll be back by sunhigh tomorrow," he decided firmly. "Tell Whitestorm and Oakheart where I've gone – they'll have the camp until I return."

"You're going _alone?"_ Sandstorm's ears pinned.

"I need Ravenpaw to show me where she is," Tinyclaw told her. "I can't expect him to hang around in the forest while Bluefur is on the loose."

Ravenpaw's entire being fluffed up with fear, his eyes striking wide. "B-Bluefur? On the _loose?"_

Sandstorm shot Tinyclaw a look.

"I'll explain as we go," Tinyclaw promised Ravenpaw. "The sooner we get moving, the better."

Sandstorm squared her shoulders, staring Tinyclaw in the eye. "You're not going without me, Tinyclaw," she declared. "It's a mouse-brained journey but you'll need all the help you can get against Twolegs or Bluefur or WindClan patrols – whichever we bungle into first."

Despite her words, Tinyclaw felt a surge of joy like warm sunlight on his pelt on a cold day. He blinked at her with more than gratitude, making her whiskers twitch. Tinyclaw turned to Swiftpaw and ordered, "Then you carry the message back to camp. Tell Whitestorm and Oakheart first – they know who Ravenpaw is."

Swiftpaw's eyes flashed with alarm – but he nodded. "O-Of course."

"Be careful, and go straight home," Tinyclaw added. Guilt weighed at his paws. Swiftpaw was a responsible cat but sending him alone in the woods after Runningwind and Thornpaw were killed not long ago? That fear of Bluefur lurking was in every cat's mind.

"I'll take care," Swiftpaw meowed. "Tell Cloudpaw that we're waiting for her and that we miss her and love her a lot." His eyes flashed with anxiety – but he slipped away and melted into the undergrowth.

Tinyclaw remembered his words, and pushed away his anxieties about Swiftpaw's journey home. Sandstorm and Ravenpaw fell into step behind him and Tinyclaw was reminded of all the adventures he'd taken with Ravenpaw and Graystripe, forays to the edge of the warrior code for the sake of ThunderClan. But as he led them through the woods the heat bore down on him, and Tinyclaw could not help but worry that he was leading them in a fruitless effort.

* * *

The three cats raced through Fourtrees and climbed up the slope to the uplands, wind blasting at their fur. They would follow the same route Tinyclaw and Tigerstar would have taken – straight across the uplands to the Twoleg farm that lay between Clan territories and Highstones. The air on the moors was unnaturally still, unable to carry their scents to WindClan patrols. The grass beneath Tinyclaw's paws was crackling dry, the heather in the distance nothing but sticks.

He chose a path that kept them as far from the WindClan camp as possible – it was easy to stumble into if one didn't know where it was. The ground here was usually peaty and wet, but now it was a dry, cracked mud, with all growth shriveled and brown.

"So what's happened with Bluefur?" Ravenpaw wondered in the silence, keeping at his pace.

Tinyclaw winced. He had looked forward to telling Ravenpaw that Bluefur had been exposed, that she and her plotting crony Darkstripe were driven from the camp but it seemed like there was only darkness to the news. Tinyclaw stumbled over the story of Runnginwind and Thornpaw's deaths with a heavy heart.

Ravenpaw squeaked in despair, stopping dead in his tracks. "She… She killed the _both of them?"_

Tinyclaw stopped, too, with Sandstorm halting a pace ahead to look back with sympathy. Tinyclaw swallowed and nodded heavily. "She leads a band of rogues now, and she's sworn to kill us all to get what she wants."

"But who would follow her?"

"Some of them are Brokentail's old friends, who ran with him in ShadowClan," Tinyclaw explained. He forced himself to revisit the battle, trying to think of the other cats he'd not recognized. "The others, I'm not sure. I don't know where they came from."

"So she's more powerful than ever," Ravenpaw decided darkly.

"No!" Tinyclaw insisted. "She's an outcast now – an exile! She has no Clan and no code, and she murders for sport. StarClan _must_ oppose her! Without the support of the Clan and the warrior code at her back, there's no way she can defeat ThunderClan!" Tinyclaw breathed in sharply. He had spoken with a conviction he had not known he had. He felt Sandstorm's eyes on him.

"I hope you're right," Ravenpaw meowed quietly.

 _Me, too,_ Tinyclaw thought. He turned away and squinted his eyes against the sun as he resumed walking.

Sandstorm fell in step behind him. "Of course he's right!" she said assuredly.

Ravenpaw followed, tail low. "I'm just glad I'm out of it all," he decided. "I couldn't handle it."

"Don't you miss Clan life?" Sandstorm wondered.

"In the beginning," Ravenpaw admitted. "But now I have a new home, and I'm happy there. I've got Barley for company if I want it, and that's just fine with me. I'd take Barley any time over Bluefur or any cat shouting orders at me all day."

Sandstorm's tone chipped. "How do you know she won't come looking for you?"

Ravenpaw was silent.

Tinyclaw looked over his shoulder at them. "Bluefur may know you're alive, but she has no idea where you are," he reasoned. He gave Sandstorm a warning look. "Come on; let's get out of WindClan territory."

He increased the pace until they were streaking through the heather too fast to speak. He pointedly avoided the swath of gorse where he and Tigerstar had met Mudclaw's patrol, instead leading them in a large circle around the moor. The barren hillside was open to the sun, and Tinyclaw's black pelt felt as if it had caught fire by the time they reached the slope that led down to the Twoleg's territory. Twoleg nests and swaths of colored farmland dotted the lowland hills beyond.

"WindClan must be keeping out of the heat in their camp," Tinyclaw puffed, his pelt burning. "Let's hope we're just as lucky in the rest of this trip."

He led them down the slope until they reached a small copse of dried up trees. They still provided shade, and Tinyclaw welcomed the woodland smells over the heather and peat. High above a buzzard called, and Twoleg monsters roared in the distance. His legs ached and begged for rest – but Cloudpaw was forward, and forward is where he went.

Sandstorm's whiskers twitched as she looked about the area. Tinyclaw recalled that she had only been this far out of Clan territory only once, on an apprentice's mandatory trip to Highstones. Tinyclaw, on the other hand, had been out this way multiple times – both with orders and without. But it was Ravenpaw who was most at home in these woods, and he took the lead with a confident stride.

"We can't hang about here all day," Ravenpaw told them. "Twolegs like walking their dogs at about this time of day, and we don't want to run into them."

Tinyclaw nodded in agreement, following Ravenpaw as the black tom led them out of the copse and back into the sunshine.

Ravenpaw pushed through a hedgerow on the other side. Tinyclaw let Sandstorm through first, and beyond was a red dirt track that tickled Tinyclaw's memory. He and Graystripe and Oakheart had crossed this track on their way to bring WindClan home. Ravenpaw looked both ways before darting to the other side.

Sandstorm glanced at Tinyclaw, who nodded at her. She shot across, tail streaming behind her. Tinyclaw followed at a swift pace.

The barley ahead rose tall and brown. Instead of running around it, Ravenpaw cut straight through, weaving confidently through the crackling stems. Sandstorm and Tinyclaw hurried after him, stems brushing against their sides as they strove to keep Ravenpaw's white-tipped tail in sight. Tinyclaw was more than disoriented – there was nothing all around but golden barley, and the sky was cloudless and blue above. His heart thudded in his ears; he'd never be able to get out of here without help – he was more than grateful when the barley abruptly ended, and the cats were out in the grass again.

Tinyclaw looked around. They were making good time – the uplands were far behind, and Twoleg nests were ahead. Tinyclaw's nose twitched, and he glanced at Ravenpaw. "Your marker?" he guessed.

Ravenpaw nodded. "This is where my territory begins," he meowed, gesturing with his tail at the land ahead. There were hills and more fields of barley and strange green plants. Ditches and trees, too. Plenty of land for one cat to roam.

"Then Cloudpaw is near?" Sandstorm guessed.

Ravenpaw nodded. He flicked his tail towards one of the hills. "She's over there," he said, "just down that slope. There's a small Twoleg nest."

Tinyclaw opened his jaws to scent the air, curious – and his breath caught. The fur along his spine tingled, bristling, as an offensive odor caught against his scent glands. What _was_ that?

Ravenpaw's nose twitched, and his tail flicked worriedly. His eyes widened in alarm. "Dogs!" he hissed.


	22. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

 _A loud bark made Tinyclaw's_ tail puff. The grass swished violently behind them, a strong odor filling the air. A heartbeat later, a huge nose pushed its way through the grass.

"Run!" Tinyclaw howled.

A second bark followed the first – _two_ dogs – but Tinyclaw had already spun and bolted.

Sandstorm caught up with him quickly, and together they pelted through the grass, fur brushing. The ground trembled at the drumming of the dog's paws, and Tinyclaw glanced back to see both big black-brown brutes crashing through the grass behind them, their long jowls flapping. With a jolt Tinyclaw realized that Ravenpaw was nowhere to be seen.

"Keep running!" Tinyclaw hissed. Ravenpaw had to know this land better – Tinyclaw prayed he was someplace safe. "They can't keep this pace up forever." Sandstorm managed a nod, her paws flashing somehow faster.

Tinyclaw looked back again, and found that he was right – the dogs were backing off a few paces, drool flying from their flapping lips as they barked. Tinyclaw put his head forward to keep himself from losing Sandstorm. _We're not out of this yet – what we need is someplace to hide!_

His eyes scanned what lay ahead – there was little but trees. The closest was an ash, situated behind another hedgerow not too far away. If they could make it up the ash, it would put enough distance between them and the dogs.

"That ash!" he told Sandstorm.

She nodded in understanding. The she-cat was much faster than Tinyclaw, thanks to those longer legs – she pelted through the hedge and up the tree before Tinyclaw had even breached the leaves. The dogs howled and snapped behind him as Tinyclaw pushed through the hedge and launched himself up the tree…

… only to feel jaws slavering against one of his hind legs. Tinyclaw screeched as a dog's jaw closed on his leg, scraping down the flesh as Tinyclaw slammed into the trunk of the ash. Tinyclaw dug his claws in and launched himself up the tree as fast as he could manage, his leg flaming. Only when Tinyclaw was trembling beside Sandstorm did he look down – the dogs were leaping at the tree, paws scraping for a hold, barking furiously. The tree shook beneath their assault.

Sandstorm hissed, lashing out with her claws. She dug at one of the dog's noses, sending it whimpering away. The other dog followed soon after. Sandstorm gave a satisfied grunt before turning to Tinyclaw. "I thought for sure they had you!" she breathed concernedly. "Are you all right?"

Tinyclaw nodded despite his trembling. He stretched out his leg to give it a look – no bleeding, but he was missing some fur and the dog's teeth had scratched hard enough to make the exposed skin puffy and red. Tinyclaw sighed. "What I wouldn't give for legs as long as yours…"

Sandstorm pressed up against him, purring reassuringly. "You'll be fine," she insisted gently.

On the branch, it was difficult to give his stinging leg a gentle cleaning. Sandstorm had herself pressed against him, but her head was raised to keep an eye out for the dogs.

Suddenly, she asked, "Where's Ravenpaw?"

Tinyclaw shook his head. "I-I don't know," he said worriedly.

Sandstorm's tail lashed, the branch swaying slightly. "Do you think he might have… _led_ us here? On purpose?"

Tinyclaw scoffed, "That's mouse-brained! Ravenpaw would _never!"_

Sandstorm met his eyes, her green eyes flashing. "You never know…" she muttered.

"He'll turn up," Tinyclaw assured her. _He has to. He knows this area way better than we do. He wouldn't just leave us someplace we don't know._ The thought of Ravenpaw betraying them didn't even flash across his mind. Sandstorm just didn't know the black tom very well, and with all that had happened Tinyclaw didn't blame her for being a little worried.

It really wasn't long before Ravenpaw showed up. The sleek tom's fur was only slightly ruffled as he slipped out of the hedge and into sight. Ravenpaw looked up the ash and called, "There you are!"

Sandstorm followed Tinyclaw as he made his way carefully down the ash's trunk. His leg stung, but the pain was nothing like it had been before. Still, Tinyclaw treated the injury lightly, even as he hit the ground. Sandstorm landed on all fours just beside him.

"Tinyclaw, are you all right?" Ravenpaw wondered worriedly, his ears pinned.

"Just not as fast as the rest of you," Tinyclaw answered, lifting his stinging leg. "I'll be fine."

"Where _were_ you?" Sandstorm demanded, her tail fluffing up. "We could have used your help!"

"I called for you to follow me," Ravenpaw admitted with a shrug, "but the dogs were barking so loud you didn't hear. When I realized that I doubled back – but the dogs were already fleeing. I can see you two are just as formidable as ever – I saw that scrape on one of their noses!"

Sandstorm flexed her claws in the grass, as if she intended to give Ravenpaw a similar marking. Tinyclaw thrust his way in before that could happen. "We're glad you're all right, Ravenpaw."

Ravenpaw sighed. "I'm glad you're OK, too."

"Don't we have an apprentice to rescue?" Sandstorm wondered, her voice edged with thorns.

She didn't wait for an answer – she turned away and padded past the tree. Ravenpaw stared after her with a frown. "She's as prickly as ever," he decided.

It was a sign of Ravenpaw's burgeoning self-confidence that he didn't take Sandstorm's attitude as an affront; but Tinyclaw wasn't about to mention that Sandstorm had suspected him of leading them into a trap. There was really only one thing on Tinyclaw's mind right now – rescuing Cloudpaw.

* * *

Ravenpaw stopped at the top of the rise. Down below, tucked away behind the hill, was a small Twoleg nest, surrounded by a clipped hedge. Tinyclaw's belly churned with excitement, covering up the dull sting of his leg. Cloudpaw was in there, right now – what if she didn't want to come back?

"I can't smell her," Sandstorm commented, nose twitching.

"I think they're keeping her locked up," Ravenpaw guessed. "I haven't seen her since the first time, either."

Tinyclaw's paws trembled. _What if she wants to stay a kittypet?_ Yet Tinyclaw could not imagine Cloudpaw wanting to stay locked up inside of a Twoleg nest.

"Well then, how are we supposed to get in there?" Sandstorm wondered, an edge to her tone.

Tinyclaw cut in before they could argue. "Come on," he said, heading down the slope. "Let's do this."

They followed him through the hedge and into the Twoleg garden. Tinyclaw's nose was stuffed with the cloying smells of the colorful flowers and plants kept by the Twolegs, and his ears could faintly pick up the sound of the Twoleg crashing about inside. The nest loomed tall and dark before them, ringed by vined bushes slightly dried from the drought. Tinyclaw flattened himself to the ground and crept across the lawn, Sandstorm and Ravenpaw putting their quarrel aside to follow.

The three cats pressed themselves against the walls of the Twoleg nest. Suddenly the hedge and the safety that lay beyond felt… _very_ far away. Sandstorm's fear-scent touched Tinyclaw's nose – this was far closer to a Twoleg nest than the pale ginger she-cat had ever wanted to get.

Ravenpaw was a shadow cast by the nest as he led the way along the wall and around one of its many sharp corners. "This is the window where I saw her," he meowed.

Tinyclaw and Sandstorm followed. Tinyclaw did not miss Sandstorm's grumbled, tense retort: "And where the Twoleg saw you…"

Sandstorm jerked into a tight crouch as light poured out from the wall just around the corner. The window was too high to reach with one leap, but from here Tinyclaw could see the Twoleg shambling about inside, clanking and crashing things about. Tinyclaw's ears pinned.

"She could be deaf from all that noise!" Sandstorm hissed.

Some of the gnarled vines touched the nest here, crawling up the wall as if it were some flat tree. Tinyclaw tested it with one paw – sturdy. "I'm going to have a look," he decided.

Tinyclaw didn't wait for protest, nor acknowledge Sandstorm's worried mew, as he dug his claws into the gnarled tree-vine and pulled himself up to the nest. His leg stung only briefly in protest as he planted himself on the short sill jutting out from the window's frame.

 _A kitchen,_ Tinyclaw decided, old memories flooding his mind as he looked inside. The floor was shiny and made of squares that felt hard and cold underpaw, and the Twoleg was standing before some shiny round thing that spouted clouds of steam into their face. He spotted bowls on the floor, shiny, like everything else, and the taste of hard food and metallic water touched the back of Tinyclaw's tongue. He pushed the old memories away to look for Cloudpaw.

A small white shape was resting in what looked like a nest made from woven branches. The shape shifted, revealing a ginger splattering across its side. Cloudpaw! Tinyclaw's excitement shrank as a small, yappy dog bolted into the room to dance about the Twoleg's heels. _What a loud thing!_

Cloudpaw didn't seem perturbed – she stretched and pulled herself from the woven nest and onto the floor. She stretched once more and headed for the bowls. _How is she ignoring that yapping thing? Maybe she_ has _gone deaf…_

"She's here," Tinyclaw hissed down at Sandstorm and Ravenpaw.

"Has she seen you?" Sandstorm wondered.

Tinyclaw looked back into the nest, his tail flicking in surprise. Cloudpaw was heading for the window! She leaped up easily, staring out of the glass as if there was nothing there at all, her blue eyes glossy and sad. Tinyclaw frowned. _She's not happy here at all – and it looks like she's been eating less, too. StarClan… please let me be able to help her!_

But Cloudpaw couldn't see Tinyclaw, and that was a problem, especially as the day wore on and the shadows disguised him. Tinyclaw pressed his paws against the glass separating them, making sure to keep his claws sheathed so the dog or the Twoleg would not be alerted as he scrabbled against the smooth, cold surface.

Cloudpaw's ears twitched – and then her eyes flickered. When she saw Tinyclaw, her mouth opened in a delighted, shocked yowl that Tinyclaw could not hear.

Inside, the Twoleg whipped around. Tinyclaw bristled and leaped off of the ledge as fast as he could.

"What happened?" Sandstorm wondered.

"Cloudpaw saw me, but I think the Twoleg did, too!" Tinyclaw panted.

"We should go," Ravenpaw insisted.

"No!" Tinyclaw snapped. "I'm not going to leave her now that she's seen me. You two go – I'll wait until Cloudpaw can get free."

Sandstorm glared at him. "What are you going to do?" she demanded. "Wait here for the Twoleg to sick that dog on you?"

"I'm _not_ leaving Cloudpaw!" Tinyclaw threw back.

A creaking noise silenced Sandstorm's reply – behind them, a bright pool of light appeared as a door was opened. Then, a great shadow passed over the light. A Twoleg. They stepped out into growing evening, looming over the cats.

The Twoleg made questioning noises at them, crooning and gesturing with their hands. Tinyclaw, Ravenpaw, and Sandstorm were frozen, pressed against one another as the Twoleg loomed closer and closer, those steps rumbling the ground.

They were trapped.


	23. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

" _This way!"_

Cloudpaw's mew made Tinyclaw jump. A white shape tore itself from the doorway, bolting across the lawn, yowling as loud as she could manage. The moment the Twoleg turned, Ravenpaw and Sandstorm bolted. Tinyclaw followed, catching up to them as they joined Cloudpaw in streaking across the yard. A dog yapped behind them – but the cats did not slow as they burst through the hedge and away from the Twoleg nest.

They settled together in a patch of nettles lengths away from the nest. Sandstorm pressed against him, her panting filling his ears. Tinyclaw looked her over – _she's safe, she's safe_ – and then swept his gaze over Ravenpaw and, finally, Cloudpaw. All here, all safe. Cloudpaw's tail was fluffed like her namesake, but otherwise she seemed to be fine.

She stared back at him, blue eyes wide. Tinyclaw stared at her, ice to sky, and relief flooded him. Now that they were safe, his doubts and worries nag at his mind. Tinyclaw had no idea what to say.

"Thank you for coming for me," Cloudpaw said. Her eyes drifted to her paws, one ginger one white.

"Do you want to come back to the Clan?" Tinyclaw asked, blunt like a blow. Cloudpaw was safe – now the needs of the Clan had to come first.

She lifted her chin. "Of course!" she said. "I know I should never have gone to Twolegs. I've learned my lesson Tinyclaw; I'll never do it again."

"Why should we believe you?" Sandstorm wondered. Tinyclaw frowned at her – her tone was mild. Ravenpaw stayed silent, tail curled over his paws.

"You… you came all this way to find me," Cloudpaw meowed uncertainly. "You must want me back."

"I need to be able to trust you," Tinyclaw said evenly. _The world doesn't revolve around you, Cloudpaw._ "The _Clan_ needs to be able to trust you, they need to know that you can obey the warrior code."

"You can trust me!" Cloudpaw insisted, on her paws.

"You can convince me," Tinyclaw meowed gravely, "but can you convince the Clan? All they'll see is that you left the Clan to live with Twolegs, during a time when we need you most. What makes you think they'll trust a cat that chose the kittypet life over the Clan?"

"I didn't _choose!"_ Cloudpaw meowed. "I didn't want to go with the Twolegs! I belong with the Clan. I _do!"_

Sandstorm leaned into Tinyclaw's ear, her breath warm: "Don't be too hard on him."

The seriousness in Cloudpaw's eyes must have moved Sandstorm to be more sympathetic. Would that look convince the rest of the Clan? Keeping his anger inside was getting tiring, and Tinyclaw knew he wouldn't be able to be so hard on his niece. He leaned forward and licked Cloudpaw between the ears. "Make sure you listen to me in the future," he warned just loud enough to be heard over the purr rumbling in Cloudpaw's chest.

"The moon's rising," Ravenpaw meowed, "if you want to be home before sunhigh, you'd best be going."

Tinyclaw nodded. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"Yes," Sandstorm agreed, stretching her legs one by one.

"Good," Tinyclaw meowed. "Then let's get going."

Ravenpaw led them as far as the uplands before moving off. WindClan's territory stretched before them, dying grass glistening with dew as dawn touches the sky with oranges and purples. In the height of greenleaf, they'd made good progress.

"Thanks, Ravenpaw," Tinyclaw had told the black tom, before he left. "It must have been hard, coming back into Clan territory. But I am glad you did."

"So am I," Ravenpaw had agreed, glancing briefly at Cloudpaw. "Even if we aren't Clanmates anymore, you will always have my friendship and loyalty."

Tinyclaw and Ravenpaw had touched noses, and then Ravenpaw trotted away. Tinyclaw watched him until he disappeared into the hedges, and then he turned to the others. "If we hurry, we can reach Fourtrees before WindClan sends out their dawn patrol."

He set off, Sandstorm and Cloudpaw flanking him. The uplands were quiet in the dawn light, old badger sets silent and empty. Beside Tinyclaw, Cloudpaw gasped at the growing dawn. The young cat looked more than happy to watch the sun rise with her own eyes, unobstructed by Twoleg glass. That look in her eye gave Tinyclaw hope for her future within the Clan.

"I smell home," she breathed.

"Really?" Sandstorm chuckled. "All I smell is old badger dirt."

"And _I_ smell ThunderClan intruders!"

Tinyclaw and the others turned, bristling. Deadfoot, the WindClan deputy, loped out of a patch of heather, his sleek shape and lopsided gate distinctive. Beside him came Mudclaw, and his small tabby apprentice, Webpaw. Tinyclaw tensed, heart pounding. How many more were there?

None came. Deadfoot growled, "You seem to be making WindClan territory your home lately, Tinyclaw. Last I checked, you were a _ThunderClan_ cat."

 _We're evenly matched._ "There's no other way from the forest to the lands beyond," Tinyclaw explained, trying to keep his tone patient. He didn't want to start a fight with WindClan – but the way he and Tigerstar had been treated before was something he couldn't forget.

"Are you trying to travel to Highstones _again?"_ Deadfoot wondered, growling. "What, is Tigerstar dead?"

Sandstorm arched her spine, hissing, "Tigerstar is _fine!"_

"So why are you here?" Mudclaw growled, matching Sandstorm for bristling fur and arcing spine.

"Just passing through!" Cloudpaw piped up. Her smaller mew sounded even smaller next to the larger warriors; but she stepped up bravely, eyeing Deadfoot with that usual arrogance of hers. Tinyclaw tensed.

"I see Tinyclaw is not the only one in need of a lesson in respect!" Deadfoot snarled.

Tinyclaw opened his jaws – perhaps he could explain their presence, maybe they didn't need to fight – but it was too late. Deadfoot's tail twitched, and the big black tom leaped. Deadfoot landed heavily on Tinyclaw's back, but the smaller cat rolled with the impact and slammed his hind paws into the WindClan deputy's stomach, sending him away.

Deadfoot got to his paws quickly. "Slow," he growled, "like all forest cats!" Daedfoot's paw flashed, and Tinyclaw felt claws raking his ear.

"I'm fast enough!" Tinyclaw spat back. He gathered his muscles and leaped, slamming his side into Deadfoot's and knocking the bigger tom off balance. As Mudclaw and Sandstorm grappled just in the corner of his eye, Tinyclaw hooked a claw into one of Deadfoot's hind legs. There was violent tug, and Deadfoot fell onto his side.

Behind him, Webpaw and Cloudpaw were wrestling in a whirl of ginger-and-white and tabby fur. Tinyclaw could hear their growling even as he kept himself focused on Deadfoot. The WindClan deputy was getting to his paws – but before he was all there Tinyclaw lunged, slamming into his side again. Tinyclaw held Deadfoot down, pressing the black tom into the scrub and digging his claws into his side. Deadfoot thrashed.

A tabby streaked by – Webpaw, fleeing from a whooping Cloudpaw. Mudclaw hissed and aimed a last attack at Sandstorm before streaking away after his apprentice. Tinyclaw dug his claws into Deadfoot once more before letting the bigger tom go.

"I'll show you respect when you've earned it," Tinyclaw growled after Deadfoot. The black tom fixed him with a venomous look before loping away.

Tinyclaw waited until all three were gone before turning about. "We need to get out of here," he panted, "before they come with reinforcements." Sandstorm meowed in agreement – Cloudpaw's eyes were shining, but she fell in step as Tinyclaw started back on their way to Fourtrees.

"Did you see that apprentice run?" Cloudpaw purred. "Looks like I haven't forgotten my training after all!"

"Hush," Tinyclaw hissed.

Cloudpaw shut her jaws – for once, listening without a fight. But her eyes still shone. Tinyclaw felt a little bit of relief at that. _So long as she listens, and makes an effort, she can be as proud of her achievements as she wants._

They didn't talk, running full-pelt to Fourtrees. It was only when they were clambering down the rocky slope that WindClan took to Gatherings, Fourtrees looming in the hollow before them, that Sandstorm sidled up to Tinyclaw to mew: "Did you see Cloudpaw fight?"

Tinyclaw shook his head as he slid down to another stone. Sandstorm went on, bounding down to his level, "She saw that WindClan apprentice off in about three rabbit hops," she said. "The poor tabby was terrified!"

"Webpaw probably just started his training," Tinyclaw reasoned, ignoring the glow of pride in his chest.

"Cloudpaw's spent the last moon holed up in a Twoleg nest," Sandstorm reminded him, her breath warm against his whiskers. "She's _so_ out of shape – but she still managed to fend off Webpaw as if he were a mouse."

Sandstorm nudged him, her green eyes boring into his, willing Tinyclaw to listen. _She doesn't have to try hard, and she knows it._ "Cloudpaw will make a great warrior," she said. "Once she's been trained, of course."

Ahead, Cloudpaw was just skidding down the rest of the way, tail puffed out. She bounced excitedly at the base of the hill, her jaws open to taste the air and her eyes sparkling and wide. She was home, and she knew it.

"She needs a bit of a lesson in humility," Tinyclaw meowed to Sandstorm, watching Cloudpaw sniff about the clearing. The great oaks of Fourtrees creaked against a hot breeze. "But I agree."

Sandstorm's whiskers twitched in amusement. She pressed her muzzle against his for a long moment before bounding down the slope after Cloudpaw, catching up the ginger-and-white apprentice at the bottom.

Tinyclaw padded down a bit more slowly, watching them. Sandstorm might have faith in Cloudpaw – and Tinyclaw did, too; he just couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling that Cloudpaw might never fully understand the warrior code.

* * *

The air was stifling and hot, a storm looming in the distance like a great enemy. Tinyclaw and the others rushed through the familiar forest, paws eating the undergrowth. Tinyclaw was paces ahead, anxiety gnawing at his mind. The forest was quiet, birdsong in the air and prey on the ground, but there was no time to stop and hunt. _I left the Clan almost defenseless – did Bluefur come? Did she attack?_

Tinyclaw sped ahead, leaving Sandstorm and Cloudpaw panting in his wake as concern gave his paws wings. He didn't stop until he slid down the ravine and all but stumbled into camp – only to find that everything was fine.

A few cats, early risers who wanted some sun before the heat grew too intense, looked up at him, concern in their gaze. Tinyclaw took a deep breath and did his best to settle himself before alarm spread.

Whitestorm approached, almost glowing in the sunlight. "I'm glad you're back safely," he meowed.

Tinyclaw dipped his head apologetically. "I'm sorry for leaving so suddenly," he meowed. "Ravenpaw came to find me, saying he'd found Cloudpaw."

"Swiftpaw told me," Whitestorm assured him.

Sandstorm and Cloudpaw appeared then, rustling the gorse as they padded through the tunnel. Their fur was specked with dust from the trip down the ravine, but both looked more than happy to be home. Cloudpaw especially, her eyes wide as she took in the clearing. When the whole Clan turned their eyes on her in shock, Cloudpaw lowered her gaze to her paws.

Whitestorm's sandy eyes passed over Cloudpaw. "We heard you'd gone to live with Twolegs," he meowed evenly.

"Yeah," Longtail sneered, stalking across the clearing. "We thought you went to be a _kittypet_ again!" The striped tom stared down at Cloudpaw, his long tail twitching in challenge. The other cats watched, curious, their eyes unblinking as they awaited Cloudpaw's response.

Cloudpaw raised her chin. "I was _stolen_ by Twolegs!" she said defiantly.

A murmur of surprise rippled through the crowd. Ashpaw and Fernpaw darted out, nuzzling their littermate with purrs that rivaled the growl of a monster. "I _knew_ you'd never go!" Ashpaw meowed. "I _knew!"_

Cloudpaw raised her head, with a nod. "I hissed and spat and fought but they still took me!" she said.

"Typical Twolegs!" Speckletail decided from the back. "So rude!"

Tinyclaw blinked in amazement. _Is she really going to win over the Clan with this tale?_ He wondered. If so, then Cloudpaw could tell stories to rival Ravenpaw.

"I was lucky Ravenpaw saw me," Cloudpaw meowed, her tone turning somber and desperate. "He went to find Tinyclaw, and he and Sandstorm came to rescue me. If not for them, I'd still be in that stinky nest, trapped with that _dog!"_

"Dog?!" Smallear repeated, his tone worried.

"Did I hear someone say _dog?"_ One-eye asked from where she lay beside Smallear.

"I did!" Cloudpaw answered. "It was loose in the nest with me."

Tinyclaw saw the elder's eyes fill with alarm. _Well, she's always had their hearts in his paws,_ he reasoned.

"Loose!" Ashpaw repeated. Fernpaw fretted, "Did it hurt you?" Swiftpaw and Brightpaw watched from the crowd, anxious as if the dog were in the crowd with them now.

"No," Cloudpaw assured them, shaking her head. "It barked a lot, though."

Tinyclaw coughed, interjecting: "You can tell your Clanmates later," he said. "What matters is that you're home, and that things are going to be different. You need to eat, and get some rest. Tomorrow your training resumes, presuming Tigerstar wishes you to stay."

Cloudpaw's eyes flashed, and she meowed, "But I didn't even get to the part about WindClan attacking us!"

"WindClan?" Dustpelt hissed. "That explains that nick in your ear, Tinyclaw. Did they chase you off?" With Cinderpelt beside him, what would have been a jibe sounded instead like concern.

Sandstorm shook her head. "We chased them off, actually," she said. "Cloudpaw fought like a warrior!"

"Did she?" Oakheart wondered, sharing a glance with Whitestorm.

"She fought off a WindClan apprentice all on her own," Sandstorm went on. "Sent them running for their mother!"

Cloudpaw raised her chin at the praise, eyes sparkling. Tinyclaw frowned slightly – Cloudpaw had arrogance enough; she didn't need Sandstorm adding to her hubris.

"Well done," Longtail decided begrudgingly. Beside him, Mousefur nodded, still subdued by her losses. Tinyclaw knew that Cloudpaw would take that news harder than anything, if she wasn't already too swept up to wonder where Runningwind and Thornpaw were.

"Is that it, though?" Dustpelt wondered. "Do we just take her back?"

Whitestorm and Oakheart exchanged another glance. "That would be for Tigerstar to decide," Whitestorm meowed finally. "But ThunderClan needs warriors more than ever before. It would be foolish of us to send Cloudpaw away."

"Can we trust her not to run away again?" Dustpelt wondered. He didn't sound biting, just worried. Like any Clan cat would be.

"I didn't run away!" Cloudpaw insisted. "I was _stolen!"_

Dustpelt's hackles rose, but it amounted to nothing – Tinyclaw swept over the tabby tom before he could say or do anything: "Whitestorm is right, and Dustpelt's point is fair. As I said before – this is up to Tigerstar." It would take more than a good story to convince the Clan to accept Cloudpaw again – they wanted, _needed_ , Tigerstar's assurance.

Tinyclaw stifled a sigh. "I'll go and speak with Tigerstar," he decided.


	24. Chapter 22

**Hey guys; boy has it been a long while! I must admit that a lot of stuff was happening between the last update and this one – a lot of stress and just other stuff in my life made it so my priorities had to shift drastically. I had to focus way more on my job and that made it difficult to write this.**

 **Now, I** _ **do**_ **plan to finish this series – it's a fun project and sort of a tribute to my love for the Warriors franchise as a whole. But whether or not I go back to revisit BoT is very, very unlikely. It's been a very long time since I've touched that story and frankly, it wasn't turning out that great in my opinion. I don't remember a lot of the stuff that I had planned anymore and I'm not really excited to try and pick it up again. If I do any more Warriors fics, I think it will be something more original, from a concept I've had for a long time.**

 **I hope you all understand, and that you enjoy the rest of the TB series!**

 **-Twilight**

* * *

 **Chapter 22**

" _Tinyclaw?" Tigerstar lifted his great_ head from his paws when Tinyclaw entered. The big tabby was hunched over in his nest, fur rumpled and ruffled and ungroomed. Tigerstar looked as if he were waiting for terrible news, his amber eyes flashing with caution. Had he moved at all since Tinyclaw had last seen him?

"Cloudpaw is back," Tinyclaw announced. Being blunt was the only way Tinyclaw could do this – he had no idea how Tigerstar would react to news nowadays. It was best to be straight with him, lay it all out. "She was in Twoleg territory beyond the uplands, near Barley's territory."

"And she found her way back here?" Tigerstar's voice was careful.

"No," Tinyclaw answered. "Ravenpaw came into our territory to tell me where she was when he spotted her."

"R-Ravenpaw…?" Tigerstar stammered.

"Your old apprentice," Tinyclaw offered. _StarClan, does he not remember Ravenpaw?_

"I know, I know!" Tigerstar snapped, eyes blazing. "What was he doing here?"

"He came to tell me about Cloudpaw," Tinyclaw repeated.

Tigerstar's tail fluffed, and he big tom tilted his head. "Cloudpaw…? Cloudpaw is back? Why did she come back?"

Tinyclaw did his best not to stare at Tigerstar in astonishment. Mouth dry, he meowed, "She wants to rejoin the Clan. Regardless of her mistakes, the Twolegs took her against her will."

"So StarClan led her home," Tigerstar mused quietly.

"Ravenpaw helped," Tinyclaw added.

Tigerstar looked down at the sandy floor of the den. "I thought that StarClan had wanted Cloudpaw to live a kittypet life," he meowed quietly. "I can see I was wrong." His head lifted up again, amber eyes meeting Tinyclaw's ice blue. "Ravenpaw helped you?"

"Yes, he led us to where Cloudpaw was shut in," Tinyclaw replied. "He saved us from some dogs, too."

Tigerstar nodded. "What did he say when he heard of Bluefur's treachery?"

Tinyclaw frowned. "He was s-shocked, of course," he stammered.

"He tried to warn us," Tigerstar recalled, his amber eyes growing distant, sad. "I should have listened. He was my apprentice… why did I not see?"

"You're Clan leader, Tigerstar," Tinyclaw offered sympathetically. "There was a lot going on then… and his claims were fantastical compared to the rest. Bluefur hid her treachery well, remember – every cat admired her."

Tigerstar sighed. "I misjudged Bluefur, and I misjudged Ravenpaw. Because of me, much was stolen from him – should I invite him back to the Clan?"

Tinyclaw frowned, shaking his head. "I don't think Ravenpaw would want that. He's happy where he is, living with Barley. Clan life wasn't meant for him – StarClan showed him the way, you were right about that."

"But I was wrong about Cloudpaw," Tigerstar rumbled quietly.

Tinyclaw's head whirled. This conversation was spiraling out of control, heading in circles that were making his thoughts spin. "I think Clan life will suit Cloudpaw, in the end," he told Tigerstar. He had to put this talk back where it belonged. "She's very determined – but only you can decide whether or not we take her back."

"Why shouldn't we?"

"Some of the Clan is worried Cloudpaw might be tempted back to the Twolegs," Tinyclaw admitted. He would not say that deep down he was just as worried.

"And what do you think?" Tigerstar wondered levelly, eyes on Tinyclaw like small suns.

"I think that Cloudpaw has a long road ahead of her – but she's learned her lesson," Tinyclaw explained. "I think she's learned that her heart lies in the forest, just as mine does."

Relief flooded over him as Tigerstar's eyes brightened. "Very well," the big tom meowed, "she may stay."

Tinyclaw breathed, "Thank you, Tigerstar!" He was excited for Cloudpaw – but his own doubts nagged. How long until she grew bored with training, or frustrated by having to catch her own food? How long would this 'new' Cloudpaw, with that determination in her eyes, last? _She's like her father,_ he recalled. _She's flighty, unless it suits her._ But she fought well against WindClan – that had to mean something.

Tigerstar went on thoughtfully, "We should ensure the Clan knows to welcome Ravenpaw as a denmate, if he ever makes his way here again."

Tinyclaw nodded in agreement. Ravenpaw hadn't had too many friends as an apprentice, thanks to his cowardly nature, but there was no reason for any cat here to hold a grudge against him now. "When will you make the announcement?" he wondered. It would feel good to see the Clan leader on the Highrock again.

"You tell them," Tigerstar meowed, shaking his head. Tinyclaw felt a stab of disappointment. Was Tigerstar not confident enough to show his face in front of his Clan? As much as Tinyclaw wanted to feel for him, Cloudpaw's return might not be completely accepted if it didn't seem like it was Tigerstar's decision. He left so many duties to Tinyclaw, how could any cat be sure?

Tinyclaw's head spun so much he couldn't move – he stood there in silence.

"Perhaps Cloudpaw ought to be the one to spread the news?" Tinyclaw suggested. "She would be more than happy to."

Tigerstar sighed. "Very well," he meowed. "Send her to me."

Tinyclaw nodded. _Was that the best decision?_ He wondered as he padded out of the den. _There were no strong objectioners from the Clan._ Had there been, he would have thought to have them do it, not Cloudpaw herself. _Oh well; this way she'll be even happier, to hear it from Tigerstar himself._

The cats had barely moved – and Cloudpaw was sitting stock-still, eyes widening as Tinyclaw padded up to her. She bounced to her paws, blue eyes small moons. "What did he say?" she wondered.

"Tigerstar wants to talk to you," Tinyclaw meowed.

Cloudpaw's wondering gaze faltered, and her tail fluffed with worry and anxiety. "R-Really?" she stammered.

Tinyclaw nodded. "Yes," he meowed. "Go on." He tried to sound mild – Cloudpaw deserved this scare, more than anything – but he couldn't bring himself to be outright mean.

Cloudpaw looked at the Highrock. She took a deep breath, and then nodded. She padded past Tinyclaw, her fluffy white tail straight up. Tinyclaw watched her pad away, unable to contain his pride in her. She was going bravely to face Tigerstar, to be told whether or not she would be staying. Tigerstar was not an easy cat for a _warrior_ to face, let alone an apprentice.

"She tells an interesting story," Whitestorm mused behind Tinyclaw. "She made the whole ordeal sound like quite the adventure." He gave no indication of being offended by that. "Is she staying?"

Tinyclaw nodded. "She is – and if she so much as looks over a Twoleg nest, I'll have her pelt before I chase her from the Clan myself."

"Harsh," Whitestorm chuckled. "But good. She needs that."

The white tom turned away to the rest of the Clan. Tinyclaw sighed. Soon it would be all over the camp. Cloudpaw was home – it felt like a great, heavy weight was lifted from his shoulders. _On to the next thing, whatever it might be._

Tinyclaw got to his paws as his belly rumbled. He turned away to get something to eat.

* * *

Tinyclaw curled up in his nest the following evening, feeling more than pleased. His training session with Cloudpaw had gone well – she was rusty, but hadn't lost all her edge just yet. For once, she listened to every word said, and there was no denying her skill. _I only hope it lasts,_ Tinyclaw thought as he drifted to sleep.

A foggy forest rose from the ground in his dreams, trunks so thick and tall their branches were hidden in the clouds. Tinyclaw felt smaller than small here in the oppressive fog. His voice was sucked into silence when he tried to call out, and an acrid stench filled his lungs instead. A smell he knew, but could not name.

The softness of another pelt pressed against him, and a familiar scent touched Tinyclaw's nose. _Redtail!_ The tortoiseshell tom, just a whisker taller than Tinyclaw, was stiff, amber eyes wide. His distinctive red tail bushed behind him.

"What's happening?" Tinyclaw wondered, his voice rasping and his throat raw.

Redtail opened his jaws, but his reply was drowned out by the screeching of Twolegs. Thundering shapes of blundering Twolegs filled the fog, running and screaming unintelligibly. Tinyclaw tensed – but Redtail darted away. Tinyclaw called after him – but the fog thickened in his throat.

Tinyclaw's eyes opened with a start – and found that his dream had invaded his reality. The whole den was filled with a thin fog, that acrid smell in his nose. Tinyclaw's entire body tensed with fear as he poked his head out the den – orange lights flickered in the distant woods.

Suddenly, Tinyclaw understood, horror prickling his pelt from ears to toes.

" _FIRE!"_


	25. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

" _THE CAMP IS ON FIRE!"_ Tinyclaw roared. He turned about to the other warriors in the smoky den. _"WAKE UP!"_

Cinderpelt's eyes opened in shock, blue discs of fear lit by orange light as the other warriors began stirring. There was no time to wait for everyone to wake up – Tinyclaw ordered, "Tell Tigerstar the camp is on fire! We must leave the camp at once – head for the river!"

Tinyclaw turned away before the words could really register into her. He streaked to the elder's den, smoke filling the camp, the scent of fire surrounding him. He thrust his head in only to shout: "The forest is on fire! We must leave!" before he rushed over to the apprentice's den.

"Wake up!" he roared. "The forest is on fire! Head for the river!" Cloudpaw's eyes opened blearily, bewildered in the haze. But she shook her head and nodded. Tinyclaw turned away and spotted Cinderpelt and Whitestorm guiding Tigerstar towards the camp's entrance. Cats streamed all around him, panic thick as the smoke in the air.

"This way!" Tinyclaw called, "Leave camp! Head for the river! Don't lose sight of your denmates! Head for the river!"

The forest roared around them with whirling flame and the two-tone shrieking of Twolegs in the distance. Tinyclaw only hoped that his voice was heard over all of it. Smoke was billowing thickly into the clearing, the orange light of flame dancing ever closer behind it. Tinyclaw was one of the last cats to stream out of the camp, following after Tigerstar and the queens.

Only when they were out of camp did Tigerstar break away from Whitestorm and Cinderpelt to begin running with the rest of his Clan. Whitestorm and Cinderpelt followed, tails bristling. Tinyclaw watched his Clanmates scurry through the woods, full of panic and fear – and yet Tinyclaw felt icily calm inside.

"Keep together!" he called as loudly as he could. "Don't lose sight of one another! Head for the river!"

A kit mewled, and Tinyclaw turned – Willowpelt was ushering her kits ahead, herding them away with the help of Oakheart and Brightpaw. Oakheart's own kits were wobbling stiff-legged through the smoky woods just ahead of Willowpelt's smaller kittens. Tinyclaw surged towards them and scooped up Willowpelt's tiny tortoiseshell and handed her off to the nearest cat – Sandstorm.

Sandstorm took the kit with a nod and kept close to Willowpelt. Oakheart and Willowpelt took the other two kits into their mouths and began heading after the others with an increased pace. Brightpaw herded Oakheart's kits before her, nudging them along as fast as she could. They made it up the ravine, and over.

Tinyclaw waited until every cat had gone up the ravine before he did – he followed after Longtail and Dustpelt and the elders, stones scattering beneath his paws in his haste. He turned around and gasped as orange tongues of flame began to devour the forest below, smoke hiding Silverpelt from sight.

He looked away and headed for the Clan. They were rushing to the river, but when Tinyclaw called out for a halt they listened, looking back at him with panic in their eyes. Tigerstar stared out from the sea of faces, Whitestorm by his side, his amber eyes burning with horror and fear.

"Is everyone here?" Tinyclaw demanded, swallowing. His throat felt dry. "Is anyone missing?"

The cats shuffled and shifted as they counted heads – suddenly Cloudpaw's voice piped up: "Where are Halftail and Patchpelt?" she squeaked in worry.

"They're not with us," Smallear reported. The small tom's eyes were wide, his limbs trembling.

"Mistykit!" Oakheart called. "Mistykit, where are you?"

"She was just in front of me!" Brightpaw wailed. "She made it up the ravine but she's gone, too! Oh, StarClan!"

Tinyclaw's mind reeled. _Three are missing,_ he thought. _Three!_ And the fire was roaring high behind him, inching forward like a snake about to strike. They had to be nearby. "I'll find them," he promised the clamoring Clan. Silence reigned and eyes turned to him. "Go on to the river – it's too dangerous to keep you here any longer. Whitestorm and Oakheart can make sure you make it to the river."

Oakheart's hackles rose. "My kit is in those woods Tinyclaw and you're a mouse-brain if you think I won't go looking for her!"

"The Clan needs you!" Whitestorm snapped, saving Tinyclaw the effort. The white warrior met his old friend's gaze. "Your other kits need you."

Oakheart opened his jaws but Sandstorm jumped down them: "I'm coming with you," she declared.

"No!" Tinyclaw insisted. "We're short on warriors as it is," he told her. "The Clan needs you here!" Sandstorm raised her hackles, eyes burning with determination – but she said nothing more.

"Then I will go," Brackenfur meowed. His voice shocked Tinyclaw's fur to bristling as the golden-brown tom hobbled out of the crowd. "I am no warrior, I'd be no use if we came across an enemy patrol."

"No way!" Tinyclaw snapped. He would not let Brackenfur risk himself like that, not with his limp! But then Yellowfang pushed her way through the crowd, her fur bristling and just a shade darker than the haze in the sky.

"I may be old, but I'm far steadier on my paws than you," Yellowfang decided. "The Clan will need your healing skills – I will go with Tinyclaw."

Brackenfur stared at Yellowfang incredulously. "But Yellowfang, you -"

"We don't have time for this!" Tinyclaw snapped. Brackenfur closed his jaws, but did not stop staring after his mentor as she padded over to join Tinyclaw. "Yellowfang will come with me – we'll meet you by the river."

He turned away before Brackenfur could argue and began picking his way down the ravine in the smoke and heat, Yellowfang right behind him.

* * *

Tinyclaw was terrified to his core but he forced himself to keep running until he reached the bottom. Yellowfang was gasping behind him. The heat was like a blow, striking hard and fast and hotter than anything Tinyclaw had ever felt. The smoke hung in the air, like a Twoleg mesh screen before his eyes, making every breath painful in his young lungs. Bright flames were licking greedily at the camp, but they hadn't reached the camp yet – Tinyclaw pushed his way through the entrance and headed for the elder's den first.

The fallen log was close to the entrance, but also to the flames. The heat made Tinyclaw squint, the haze almost too hard to see through. His lungs burned as he pushed his head through the burning lichen and into the fallen log.

Halftail and Patchpelt lay in heaps in the den, Halftail's jaws buried in Patchpelt's scruff as if he had tried to pull him along before he'd collapsed. Tinyclaw stared in shock – neither were moving or breathing. Yellowfang pushed her way in.

"Don't just stand there," she rasped. "Help me!"

Tinyclaw nodded and grasped Patchpelt's scruff in his jaws. Yellowfang unlatched Halftail, and together they dragged the old toms out of the elder's den. Tinyclaw's lungs burned hot and his neck began to ache, too, from the deadweight of Patchpelt.

Patchpelt twitched and spasmed as Tinyclaw pulled him out of the camp and began hauling him up the ravine, his sides heaving and convulsing. By the time Tinyclaw was at the top every piece of him ached from the old cat's thrashing. He laid Patchpelt down on a flat stone, letting him settle back into unconsciousness.

Tinyclaw turned to look for Yellowfang. The old she-cat was just trying to haul Halftail out of the camp, struggling against the gorse that encircled the clearing. Her flanks heaved as she fought against the thick smoke. Flames licked against the trees that protected the camp, eating away at their trunks. There was a groan from one of them, and Yellowfang looked up at Tinyclaw with wide orange eyes.

Bunching his hind legs, Tinyclaw was about to spring to her aid – but a mewling gave him pause. Mistykit! Through the billowing smoke, he spotted Mistykit huddling in a bush, the flames a tail-length away from her paws. She let out another pitiful wail of fear, pale fur bristling.

Without thinking Tinyclaw surged for Mistykit. He reached the bush just as flames began licking at its dried branches, thrusting his head forward to grasp Mistykit by the scruff. The kit went limp immediately, and Tinyclaw dragged her out just as the bush went up in flames. He bounded away as quick as he could, Mistykit hanging from his jaws.

He set her down by Patchpelt and turned to help Yellowfang – but a loud crack split the air and the tree, wreathed in flames, careened down, landing in a spray of cinders and branches just before the old gray she-cat. The whole world shook from the force, and Tinyclaw nearly lost his breath. When it was done he looked, straining to see Yellowfang – but the tree's burning branches had blocked the entrance of the camp, a wall of flame impossible to penetrate.

Yellowfang was trapped.


	26. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

 _Tinyclaw's eyes widened._

"Yellowfang?" he called. The smoke was beginning to choke his voice. "Yellowfang! YELLOWFANG?!"

The fire lapped at the log between he and the medicine cat. Tinyclaw strained his ears to hear beyond the snapping and crackling of flames and the sound of the forest – his home, his world – burning down around him… but there was no reply.

Beside him, Mistykit mewled pitifully, full of fear. Her small body, its blue-gray color darkened by soot, was pressed against him. Tinyclaw couldn't stay here, not with Mistykit. Frustration threatened to boil over in him, punctuated by the burning sensation of his singed flanks. But he took Mistykit by the scruff of her neck and turned away.

Yellowfang would have to wait. _She's a strong old cat,_ he told himself firmly. _She won't let a little smoke beat her._

 _She'll be just fine._

Tinyclaw forced his paws into motion, sprinting up the slope to the flat stone where he'd left Patchpelt. The old tom lay unmoving, his chest rising and falling weakly. Tinyclaw set Mistykit down on her paws. Patchpelt would not be able to make it to the river on his own.

"Follow me," he rasped to Mistykit. It was hard to get his voice to rise above the sound of the flames and the forest crashing and breaking, but Mistykit nodded. She'd heard.

Tinyclaw's jaws were so tired, but he grasped Patchpelt's scruff as firmly as he could make them. He pulled Patchpelt off of the stone, pausing for just a moment to look back down the ravine – was there a chance… no, there was no time – before he set off for Sunningrocks.

Mistykit was keeping up well, thankfully – the terror of burning to death had struck a grim sort of urgency into the kit. Tinyclaw couldn't carry both she and Patchpelt, though by StarClan he wished he could – Mistykit would simply have to follow and be strong on her own. Mistykit's eyes were wide and unfocused but she followed as quickly as her small legs could carry her.

 _Her legs aren't that much smaller than mine,_ Tinyclaw thought. An odd thought, amidst the smoke and flame and death, but it flashed into his mind nonetheless. Despite his small size Tinyclaw knew he was far stronger than the kit waddling beside him. This forest had made him strong, and now it was falling apart.

Tinyclaw followed the path the Clan had taken with barely any ability to recognize it. The forest was changing rapidly, and all scents were stifled by smoke and ash. He moved by memory, by trusting his own paws – looking back only to ensure that Mistykit was behind him. StarClan, his neck _hurt;_ but leaving Patchpelt to die was not an option.

Looking back wasn't helping to raise his hopes – each time he expected to see Yellowfang and Halftail following behind, barely visible in the smoke – but each time, there was only Mistykit. Tinyclaw pushed away the thought that he had sacrificed a good friend and Clanmate to save Bluefur's daughter, her very spitting image. _She's Oakheart's daughter, too._

Finally they reached Sunningrocks. The presence of his Clanmates, terrified though they were, eased his thoughts. Tinyclaw laid Patchpelt down on the nearest and flattest stone he could find – Brackenfur rushed over to the elderly cat as fast as his hobbled leg could take him. Mistykit ran straight to Oakheart, who sat clustered with the queens and his other kits, Stonekit and Mosskit. Immediately Oakheart pulled Mistykit close and began licking her as fiercely as any queen. Tinyclaw thought he could hear the old warrior purring over the sound of the flames – and when he looked up at Tinyclaw, his eyes were filled with a gratitude that could not be put to words.

Tinyclaw blinked, and looked away. He forced aside the thought of trading Yellowfang for Bluefur's daughter. _She's not just Bluefur's daughter, she's her own cat – her own cat!_ But it was a difficult feeling to shake. He forced himself to instead watch Brackenfur as he tried to rouse Patchpelt – using a strange technique that required pressure from both his paws onto Patchpelt's chest. Brackenfur pressed and pressed, grunting with effort.

"Is there anything I can -" Tinyclaw closed his jaws on the offer as Patchpelt's body jerked – and then lay still. Brackenfur heaved a sigh, his eyes glittering with sadness as he settled on all fours.

"Thanks for the offer," he said quietly, looking at Tinyclaw, "but he is with StarClan now."

Shocked mewls rippled through Sunningrocks. Tinyclaw's heart sank – he'd brought Patchpelt so far, only to have him die? _Where is the justice in that?_ Brackenfur's eyes were shadowed with grief at the loss of his Clanmate as he gently used a paw to close Patchpelt's eyes one last time. He stepped aside as the elders – and Cloudpaw, who had been close with all the elders – went to share tongues for the last time.

"His spirit will guide us," Brackenfur decided, settling next to Tinyclaw. "He will give us the strength to survive. We cannot dwell on the lost when the living are still around us."

"Sounds like Yellowfang," Tinyclaw meowed, before he even realized it.

Brackenfur's ears pricked. "Yellowfang!" he gasped. "Where is she?"

Tinyclaw swallowed, the lump in his throat caught against a sharp, stabbing, hot pain in his chest. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice rasping with smoke. "We found Halftail and Patchpelt but when I found Mistykit… I lost her in… I…"

Brackenfur's eyes were filled with such pain, such sadness. Oh StarClan – how was Tinyclaw supposed to tell him that his mentor, the cat that had given him renewed purpose in life, was still caught in the flames? More and more it was beginning to seem as if StarClan was trying to kill them all. _I'm starting to think like Tigerstar,_ he thought grimly. _As much as I don't want to think that, I can't do this to myself. I can't._

Mistykit broke into a fit of coughing. Brackenfur's ear twitched, and he hobbled away to tend to her – thankfully tearing him away from the subject of Yellowfang. Now wasn't the time for mourning, not when the Clan needed Brackenfur more than ever. Brackenfur laid his paws on Mistykit in the same way he'd done Patchpelt, kneading away the smokiness of the kit's cough.

Tinyclaw let himself fall back onto his haunches, letting exhaustion wash over him for a moment. His jaw hurt, his flanks felt seared, and his paw pads stung as he pressed them against the rocks. All around him it looked as if the Clan had been dusted with a black snow, ash and soot clinging to pelts like cobwebs. Sandstorm was there, thank StarClan – Tinyclaw spotted Dustpelt and Cinderpelt pressed together, too. And there was Speckletail, Snowkit… slowly, Tinyclaw picked out each member of his Clan – all the ones that remained.

All the ones he needed to protect.

The wind shifted, and suddenly the smell of smoke became stronger. The air began to cloud before his eyes. Tinyclaw got to his paws and looked back at the treeline – the smoke was growing darker, moving closer… moving towards Sunningrocks. The roar of the fire was beginning to swell in his ears.

"It's coming," he yowled. "It's coming towards us!" He turned to the Clan, his voice hoarse and cracked with smoke. "We have to cross the river – it won't follow us there."

His Clanmates stared at him, eyes glowing in the darkening sky. Fear and terror was reflected in all of them, and some, at the furthest edges of the crowd, had the light of the fire in their eyes. The wind pushed at Tinyclaw's pelt again, stronger this time. He looked up – the sky ought to have been just breaking into dawn, but dark clouds billowed above, dark and heavy and not quite smoke.

To punctuate his thoughts, lightning raced through the sky, a hot white blinding flash. Tinyclaw closed his eyes to it, and thunder rumbled the world as he opened them. Rain was coming, finally! "The storm will put the fire out behind us!" he told the Clan. "But we need to move!"

The cats had flattened themselves against the rocks at the flash of lightning and the peal of thunder, but Sandstorm was the first to stand tall. Her eyes met Tinyclaw's, sending a rush of energy through his limbs. Slowly, the Clan began to understand, rising to their paws and beginning to look for a place to go, waiting for some sign or signal. Their fear of the flames consuming them outweighed the fear of the storm. As the crowds moved, Tinyclaw spotted Tigerstar – the big, hulking cat huddled near Whitestorm, close to the ground, whiskers twitching. Was he praying?

There wasn't time to figure it out.

"This way!" Tinyclaw signaled with his tail as a peal of thunder nearly drowned out his voice. The Clan looked to him, illuminated by the flashing lightning. A rabbit pelted past from the forest, terrified as the flames grew ever closer – the Clan didn't even try to attack the creature. All were fleeing the flames now, and the Clan was picking its way down the slope of Sunningrocks and towards the river.

Tinyclaw followed. They were moving too slowly – the fire was beginning to glow through the treeline. "Hurry!" he called – and they began to run, tails up or streaming behind them. Longtail and Cinderpelt kept with Willowpelt, carrying her kits. Dustpelt and Cloudpaw dragged Patchpelt's limp body down the slope, the old cat's paws dashing against the stones despite their care. Whitestorm and Brindleface had braced Tigerstar up to his paws, guiding him down to the river.

Where was Sandstorm? Tinyclaw turned to look for her – but he saw Speckletail instead, struggling with guiding Snowkit off his paws. The deaf young cat turned his head this way and that out of utter confusion until Speckletail waved her tail just so, and then he followed, eyes wide. A signal for danger. Then he spotted Sandstorm, who ran beside Brackenfur, and Tinyclaw felt relief as he turned back to follow the Clan.

He herded them down to the shore of the river, RiverClan's scent marks strong even in the smoke. But the flames were advancing down Sunningrocks, lapping at the well-worn stones and scorching them black. Tinyclaw urged them along, and no cat seemed to care that they had just pelted across the border.

There was no time to go to the stepping-stones. The flames were consuming the forest as quickly as the cats were crossing it; faster, even – Tinyclaw could feel the heat on his flanks and hear its roaring right in his ears. Louder than a Thunderpath monster, even louder than the thunder of the storm ahead. Paws rasped against the pebbles of the river's shore, and Tinyclaw watching his Clanmates shy and balk away from the rushing water, looking back at the flames and then ahead at the river with conflict in their eyes.

 _We have no choice,_ Tinyclaw told himself. _We have to cross._


	27. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

" _It's more than shallow enough_ to wade most of the way," Tinyclaw yowled. "Near the middle you'll have to swim, but its nothing to fear!" He was trying to make his voice as confident and urging as possible – but it crackled with the smoke, and the roar of the fire behind him nearly drowned it out. "Please – you all must go! Trust me!"

Whitestorm and Oakheart exchanged glances, then the older warriors met Tinyclaw's eyes. Whitestorm nodded slowly before picking Stonekit up in his jaws and began heading for the water. Oakheart took Mosskit while Brindleface had Mistykit mewling in her jaws. The three huddled around Tigerstar and began urging him slowly into the river.

Tinyclaw was more than grateful for that. Hopefully their willingness to go would spark reassurance in the Clan. A soft pelt brushed his shoulder, and Tinyclaw breathed in Sandstorm's familiar and comforting scent. He looked up to find her looking down at him with those bright green eyes.

"Are you sure it's safe?" she wondered. Her eyes flickered towards the river.

"Yes," Tinyclaw replied wholeheartedly. "I promise." The urgency and the fire and the terror disappeared as he looked into Sandstorm's eyes, just for a moment. He wanted to bury his face into her soft fur and sleep for a moon, wanted to forget all the horrible things that were happening all around him.

But he couldn't. He had a job to do.

Sandstorm blinked at him slowly, as if she could read his mind. Then, she rushed into the river, splashing easily through the shallows until she reached the deeper channel in the middle. Whitestorm and the others hadn't quite made it there yet – they stopped in their journey to watch Sandstorm's head bob above the water briefly… and then it disappeared.

Tinyclaw's heart clenched. Where was she? Oh StarClan, if Sandstorm drowned here, on top of everything else –!

But Sandstorm's head pushed through the water's surface near the other side of the river. She coughed and sputtered as she pulled herself onto the opposite shore, but when she looked back at the Clan her green eyes were blazing. "Keep your paws moving!" she urged across the water. "You'll be all right!"

Tinyclaw swallowed, his heart swelling with pride and admiration. It was all he could do not to plunge into the water and swim to her side – but the Clan needed him here. He couldn't leave anyone behind. Sandstorm's stunt seemed to have ignited bravery back into the ThunderClan cats – Tinyclaw watched as they all began to plunge into the water, grim determination on their faces as they stared at the opposite shore.

Dustpelt and Cloudpaw hesitated at the water's edge, Patchpelt's body between them. Tinyclaw frowned. There was no way they could haul him across the waters, not with a ThunderClan cats' lack of experience in water. Patchpelt's body would just drag them under, and Dustpelt seemed to understand that as he looked between the patchy elder and the water.

"Leave him," Tinyclaw rasped. Dustpelt looked at him, shocked. Cloudpaw's eyes went wide. "We'll have to come back for him. We need to make sure everyone makes it across – I don't want any more deaths today."

Dustpelt looked as if he might snap back, but Tinyclaw assured strongly: "We'll come back for him, Dustpelt. We'll bury him when the fire has passed."

That seemed to settle the tabby warrior. Dustpelt plunged into the waters with the rest of the Clan. Cloudpaw was breathing heavily, stunned and shocked but not outwardly showing it – her pelt was so stained with soot and smoke that it was difficult to tell that it was mostly white. Tinyclaw touched his nose to her flank, hoping she knew just how proud of her he was. Cloudpaw drifted into the water, paws churning strongly.

Tinyclaw looked over the remaining cats – most were in the water, all heading for the shore. Sandstorm stood belly deep in the water with Whitestorm, encouraging the others and helping those who were struggling. The kits were across, huddled up with Oakheart and the queens. Tinyclaw felt relief at that, but his eye caught on Smallear.

The elder hadn't yet touched the water yet, balking at the current. Sandstorm was calling to him, being as reassuring as possible – but over the roar of the fire Tinyclaw wondered if Smallear could hear her. It was coming closer and closer. No cat could afford to hesitate, and Tinyclaw was not going to lose anyone else.

He grabbed Smallear firmly by the scruff and pulled the old tom into the water with him, ignoring Smallear's protests. The elder's paws flailed at Tinyclaw's back as he fought the current and the small tom dragging him. Tinyclaw struggled to keep hold of Smallear thanks to the thrashing, and the water quickly pushed Tinyclaw off of his paws and sent them both roaring downstream.

Tinyclaw felt panic flare in his body as Smallear suddenly became a limp deadweight in his jaws. The shore suddenly disappeared, replaced by a steep wall of mud, and the icy water felt like claws in Tinyclaw's body. Smallear was still breathing, and he would make it so long as Tinyclaw could keep his head above water.

That was harder than it seemed – how did Graystripe manage it so easily? Smallear was heavier than Tinyclaw by a margin, a full grown cat weighing down one half his size. Tinyclaw's entire body strained to keep them both above water. His neck shook, his paws ached, and it felt like everything was about to give way under the strain.

And then, suddenly, a mottled head lifted the weight from him. Tinyclaw blinked water out of his eyes as he regained control of himself in the water – it was Leopardfur, the RiverClan deputy! She had Smallear in her jaws, her paws churning expertly. Leopardfur easily dragged Smallear to the bank and then Tinyclaw felt her teeth in his scruff as she pulled him out of the water.

Tinyclaw gasped and wheezed, coughing water from his lungs. Smallear was trembling, soaked to the bone, but he seemed all right. Leopardfur regarded them both, then narrowed her eyes at the rest of the Clan on her shore. RiverClan cats were mingling with them, curious and worried and some no doubt suspicious. Graystripe was there. "Is that all of you?" she demanded.

"All that could make it," Tinyclaw coughed back.

Leopardfur looked across the water, spotting Patchpelt's body. "He's dead?" she guessed.

Tinyclaw nodded weakly.

Leopardfur slipped back into the water without a word. Her paws churned through the water with ease, making it through the deep channel in the middle without pause. She emerged on the other side, grabbed Patchpelt, and then slipped back into the water just as easily. Thunder clapped overhead, but Leopardfur swam on and reached the RiverClan shore, dragging a sodden Patchpelt with her.

"Tinyclaw!" Graystripe's voice rose above the storm. Tinyclaw's ears pricked, and he watched his old friend pad over to his side. Graystripe's fur against his flanks felt warm and soothing. "Are you all right?"

Tinyclaw could only nod, dazed and too waterlogged to think. Leopardfur pulled Patchpelt's body more securely onto the shore and decided, "We'll bury him back at camp."

"In… RiverClan?" Tinyclaw managed.

Leopardfur looked at him flatly. "Unless you want to try burying him back there," she stated. She didn't wait for a reply – she turned and began heading up the slope, away from water and fire. When Tinyclaw rose to his paws, the rest of ThunderClan took the cue – following Leopardfur and the other RiverClan cats further inland. Heavy drops of rain began to fall from the sky. Would it be enough to douse the fire?

Tinyclaw watched Graystripe pick Patchpelt's body up easily, and was reminded of just how weak he felt. Paws slipping over the pebbles, Tinyclaw followed his beleaguered and sodden Clan into the reeds.

* * *

The RiverClan camp had been ringed with ice the last time Tinyclaw had seen it – now it was nearly unrecognizable. The streams that secured the little islands only glistened wetly in the rain, the heat having soaked up all the water that had been there before. The reeds that weren't already flattened by the rain were dry and greedy for the moisture. Wispy willow trees hung over the camp, their silvery leaves dripped water to the sandy earth below.

Leopardfur led the blackened and tired group of cats into the camp, through a narrow passage between bunches of dried-out rushes. The smell of smoke here was only lingering, nowhere near as strong as it was in the forest on the other side of the river. It was like breathing fresh air for the first time.

Crookedstar sat on his haunches in the middle of the island, which was a great clearing surrounded by rushes and reeds and sheltered from most of the rain by willows. The fur on his big shoulders was bristling as he regarded the ThunderClan intruders suspiciously. His eyes caught on Graystripe for but a moment before he looked to his deputy.

"Is RiverClan safe?" he asked immediately.

"The fire won't cross the river," Leopardfur reported. "The wind's changed, too."

Tinyclaw blinked and sniffed the air. Had he been too exhausted to notice? The storm had indeed changed the wind's direction, pushing the fire away as it rippled through his sodden fur. The freshness helped clear his mind… where was Tigerstar? He ought to be formally greeting Crookedstar. The big tabby tom was huddled with Whitestorm amongst the rest of the Clan, his tail so twined with the white warrior's it looked as if they were stuck.

 _No,_ Tinyclaw thought despairingly. RiverClan couldn't see ThunderClan so weak. He stepped forward, placing himself at the head of the Clan and beside Leopardfur. "We're very thankful to Leopardfur and her patrol for showing such courage and kindness in our time of need," he reported, dipping his head to Crookedstar. Lightning rippled overhead.

Crookedstar regarded him, his expression difficult to read with his malformed face. "Leopardfur was right to help – all the Clans fear fire."

"Our camp was burned and our territory is smoldering still," Tinyclaw went on. "We've nowhere to go for now." He blinked away water that streamed into his fire-dried eyes. He had no choice but to throw himself at Crookedstar's mercy here – what else could ThunderClan do?

Crookedstar frowned, regarding the ThunderClan cats with narrowed eyes. Tinyclaw's limbs itched with tiredness and growing frustration. Was this fatigued and smoke-stained group of cats really so threatening? _Would I take this long to make a decision like this? We need help!_

Finally, Crookedstar decided, "You may stay until it is safe to return to your territory."

Tinyclaw exhaled with relief. "Thank you," he breathed.

"Would you like us to bury your elder?" Leopardfur wondered.

"That's a very generous offer," Tinyclaw meowed, "but Patchpelt ought to be buried by his own Clan." Patchpelt might not be laid to rest in his own territory, but his Clanmates would send him on his journey to StarClan, with Brackenfur to say words over his spirit.

"Very well; his body will be moved outside of camp for your elders to sit vigil," Leopardfur decided. Tinyclaw's decision didn't seem to matter to her either way. "I'll ask Mudfur to help your medicine cat," she went on, her eyes scanning the blackened cats huddling in the rain. "Was Tigerstar injured?"

"He breathed in quite a lot of smoke," Tinyclaw answered evenly, meeting Leopardfur's eye. She was being generous here, but Tinyclaw knew just how Leoaprdfur was; always looking for a weakness. "He was among the last to leave the camp. Please, excuse me – my Clan needs me."

Tinyclaw got to his paws and turned to Cloudpaw and Smallear. "Are you fit to bury Patchpelt?"

"I am," Cloudpaw replied, "but Smallear is -"

"I'm fit enough to bury my denmate," Smallear rasped, voice thick with smoke. Cloudpaw sagged just a little – Tinyclaw was warmed by her concern for the elders.

"I'll ask Cinderpelt to help," Tinyclaw decided.

He turned to face the Clan, finding a small brown tom following Brackenfur throughout the throng of ThunderClan cats. Mudfur, Tinyclaw guessed – the tom dropped a bundle of herbs beside Willowpelt and her kits. The kittens were mewling and wailing, refusing to drink even when Willowpelt pressed them to her belly as hard as she could.

"Are they all right?" Tinyclaw wondered, padding over to them.

Brackenfur looked up from his herbs. "They'll be fine," he reported. "The kits' throats are all sore from the smoke. Mudfur is giving them honey to ease the pain."

"Do you think they can manage it?" Mudfur wondered. Caught on his claws was a large wad of moss, dripping with a yellowish, sticky liquid. Willowpelt nodded gratefully, encouraging her kits to lap at the honey and purring when they couldn't seem to get enough. Tinyclaw hoped there was enough for all the kits.

Brackenfur and Mudfur seemed to have everything under control. He padded away from the group, settling down to wash his singed flanks. His fur tasted awful, and the blackness of it made it impossible to tell where the soot and ash lay until his tongue found it first. His one white paw was blackened, too, and he cleaned it fastidiously as he looked over the Clan.

They were all settling in for the night, exhaustion finally taking over. Graystripe moved between them, mewing encouragingly to his former Clanmates whether they cared or not. Where was Silverstream? Probably safe in the nursery, with the kits. Tinyclaw spotted Sandstorm's pale flanks rising and falling next to Longtail, white Tigerstar and Whitestorm were huddled together in a tight white-and-tabby knot. Brackenfur laid down beside Ashpaw and Cloudpaw, who were already down for a while. Cinderpelt and Dustpelt were huddled close with Fernpaw nearby. The whole Clan was accounted for.

Tinyclaw frowned. All but Yellowfang and Halftail. When he closed his eyes to sleep, Yellowfang's terrified face flashed before his eyes, ringed with terrible flames. The image was unbearable… and it haunted him even as he drifted off into dreams.


	28. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

 _It felt like Tinyclaw had_ slept only for a blink when he opened his eyes. A cool breeze touched his fur, and the sky was filled with billowing white clouds. The rain had stopped. The reeds swaying in the breeze startled him for but a moment before he recalled what had happened, and where he was. He lifted his head, breathing in RiverClan scent. A voice broke through Tinyclaw's groggy awakening – Smallear.

"I told you all that StarClan would show their anger!" the old cat was rasping. "Our home is in ruins! The forest is gone."

Near him, Speckletail fretted. "Tigerstar should have stuck to the customs," she worried, ears flat. "He should have appointed our new deputy before moonhigh!"

Tinyclaw got to his paws, belly burning with frustration. This argument again? He understood their need for an explanation in this, but would they really try to pin this on him and Tigerstar's depressed state? _That's not_ —

"That's not fair," Sandstorm cut in. Tinyclaw swallowed as he saw her green eyes narrow at the elders. Brackenfur was beside her, ears tilted to the conversation. If any cat was an expert on what StarClan had to say, it would be him. Sandstorm went on: "Smallear, Tinyclaw saved your life! Are you really going to be so ungrateful?"

"He nearly drowned me!" Smallear spat back, ears flattened.

"So you would have rather burned to death?" Sandstorm countered. Smallear faltered, jaws closing. Sandstorm's eyes flickered over the complaining cats. "If Tinyclaw hadn't smelled smoke in the first place, where do you think we'd be? You would be dead if it weren't for Tinyclaw – maybe think about that before blaming him for all our Clan's problems!"

"I'm sure Patchpelt, Halftail, and Yellowfang are deeply grateful." Sandstorm's green gaze narrowed on Longtail – but the silvery tabby looked more tired than hostile. Sore from all the loss.

But it was clear he'd hit a sore spot with Brackenfur. The golden brown tabby raised his voice: "Yellowfang will thank us when we find her."

" _If_ we do," Longtail countered. "Who knows if she was able to escape the fire?"

"I would rather think she had," Brackenfur said pointedly, "than go on sowing seeds of despair amongst our Clanmates. Nothing is certain yet." And then, with a sorrowful sigh, "If she _is_ gone, then StarClan will welcome her spirit."

Tinyclaw swallowed before clearing his throat loud enough to be heard. Smallear and Speckletail shrank visibly, clearly feeling guilt for their outburst – Longtail held his tail low. Brackenfur and Sandstorm met Tinyclaw's eyes.

"Brackenfur is right," Tinyclaw stated. He pushed down the frustration that threatened to color his voice. "We cannot focus on the tragedies when the Clan needs us stronger than ever."

Smallear and Speckletail stared awkwardly at one another, tails flicking. Longtail nodded gently before slinking away to the rest of the Clan. Brackenfur gave him a nod, and Sandstorm held his gaze, whiskers twitching.

Tinyclaw could have drowned in that green gaze, but Graystripe's mew burst through the moment: "Tinyclaw!"

Graystripe wove through the reeds, fur damp from the river. His eyes were bright looking at his old friend, and Tinyclaw turned to meet him.

"Have you been on patrol?" Tinyclaw wondered.

"Yeah, and hunting," Graystripe chuckled. "Not everyone gets to sleep the day away."

Tinyclaw grunted, "Says you, the one who would sleep the day away any chance he got."

Graystripe purred and then nudged Tinyclaw with his shoulder. "You've gotta be hungry – come on." He pointed his muzzle towards a modest pile of fresh-kill, arranged just outside the RiverClan camp. Tinyclaw blinked – had RiverClan done all this, just for ThunderClan? "Leopardfur portioned this out for you."

"How generous," Tinyclaw admitted. "Didn't think she had it in her."

That earned Tinyclaw another nudge. "C'mon," Graystripe offered, "she's prickly and I'm pretty sure there's an oak branch stuffed somewhere beneath her tail but… this is a crisis. She knows when to take off her brambles."

Tinyclaw chuckled at that. "Seems you're getting used to things here," he meowed. "Let me tell the Clan." Tinyclaw raised his voice so that the rest of the cats could hear him: "Graystripe has told me that this pile of fresh-kill is for us."

"Thank StarClan!" Frostfur breathed gratefully.

"Better than asking Crookedstar for hunting permission," Sandstorm decided, tail flicking.

Whitestorm, beside her, meowed, "We'll see that each cat gets a share."

"Thank you," Tinyclaw offered, blinking gratefully at the white warrior. Tinyclaw sometimes wondered where he'd be without Whitestorm – and, noting their shared glance at Tigerstar, who lay curled up in the reeds, Tinyclaw had no idea where Tigerstar would be without Whitestorm, either.

Graystripe padded towards the fresh-kill pile and plucked out a mouse, tossing it at Tinyclaw's paws. "Come on, you can eat this in the nursery – there's some kits I want you to meet!"

Tinyclaw blinked, ears pricking. The kits! He took the mouse in his jaws and followed Graystripe as the big gray tom padded into the RiverClan camp. Their nursery was a tangle of reeds, nestled in the crook of a willow tree's roots. A dry streambed ran just beside it, shallow enough for kits to play. Before they could enter, two silver-gray bundles darted from the nursery's entrance, tiny tails sticking straight up behind them.

The kits bundled into Graystripe so hard that they knocked him off his paws – or perhaps Graystripe was playing along. The big gray warrior hit the sandy earth with a huff. Tinyclaw's whiskers twitched – it was fairly easy to tell whose kits these were.

"How did you know it was me?" Graystripe purred, getting back to his paws.

"We smelled you!" mewled the stockier tom. Tinyclaw chewed his mouse thoughtfully. The tomkit had Graystripe's thick fur and amber eyes, along with that darker stripe down his spine. Almost a copy, really, if that copy were a little darker. The she-kit was smaller and more slender, even underneath a thicker coat – her silver tabby pelt was far more marked than Silverstream's, but otherwise she looked just like her mother, right down to the bright blue eyes.

"Very good!" Graystripe mewed proudly. "Now, there's someone I want you to meet – Stormkit, Featherkit, this is -"

"Tinyclaw!" Featherkit answered promptly. Her big eyes were on Tinyclaw now, and he swallowed the last of his mouse in a sort of… proud astonishment. Graystripe had already told his kits about him? _No doubt he exaggerated a little bit._

"He's shorter than you said," Stormkit decided.

 _Yep._ "Hello, you two," Tinyclaw offered.

"Father told us all about the stuff you got up to as apprentices!" Stormkit went on. "And as warriors!"

"We want to do stuff like that too!" Featherkit mewled excitedly. She pounced on her brother, fearless of his greater size. "Saving our Clan and our friends and -" her proclamation cut short as Stormkit nipped her ear.

A striped silver head poked out of the nursery. Silverstream. "Calm down, you two!" she said sternly. "Mosspelt is trying to sleep!"

"Sorry," Stormkit offered.

Silverstream padded out of the nursery, looking Tinyclaw up at down. "There you are," she said. Her slender frame had filled out since the last time Tinyclaw had seen her – but then, of course, she had been stuck in a nest and ill, recovering from the hard birth of her kits. Tinyclaw wondered how often she and Graystripe thought of the one they'd lost by the river – Icekit.

"Hello, Silverstream." Tinyclaw dipped his head.

Silverstream nodded to him. Then, she ushered her kits back inside. "It's going to rain again soon," she promised. "Don't wake Mosspelt, or you deserve what you get!" Stormkit and Featherkit both groaned, but they obeyed.

"They're lovely," Tinyclaw stated proudly, looking at the two. He couldn't be more happy for Graystripe and Silverstream – the turmoil their relationship had caused aside, they were happy and their kits were alive and healthy. What more could they ask for?

"Crookedstar loves them," Silverstream purred. "He plays with them almost every day."

"That's good," Tinyclaw agreed. He'd hate to think that Crookedstar would ignore his own grand-kits.

"I'll be back soon," Graystripe promised, brushing his muzzle against Silverstream's. "I'm going to catch up with Tinyclaw for a little bit."

"All right," Silverstream mewed. "Be careful."

"Always."

Graystripe nodded to Tinyclaw, and the two headed outside of the RiverClan camp. Graystripe led Tinyclaw up a small slope, dotted with reeds and rushes and short yellow-green grass. They settled at the top – and the view was surprising. Tinyclaw could see down the lowlands and across the river from here. Sunningrocks was obscured, but the treeline behind it was visible – what remained of it, anyway.

"Where's Yellowfang?" Graystripe wondered. "Did she… make it?"

Tinyclaw swallowed. "I don't know," he replied. "I lost her in the fire when we went looking for Halftail and Patchpelt. A tree blocked her into the camp with Halftail." Was there really any way she could have survived? Grief swelled in his chest. "I don't suppose you caught any scent of her on your patrol?"

"No," Graystripe answered quietly. "I'm sorry."

Tinyclaw looked out over the landscape, eyes glued to the forest. Some plumes of smoke still rose above the trees. "Do you think it's still burning?"

"No idea," Graystripe admitted. "We don't want to investigate until there's no more smoke. It's going to rain again – that ought to put out any remaining fire."

Tinyclaw couldn't stop his voice from cracking. "Do you… think anything is left?"

"I don't know," Graystripe said sadly. He might live in RiverClan, but that didn't stop his heart from aching for ThunderClan and his old home. Was he imagining the camp in ruins, scorched and burned away by flames? "But I know it'll be all right, Tinyclaw. ThunderClan will survive this."

Tinyclaw sighed. "Some cats think it's a sign of doom," he admitted.

"There's always going to be one or two cats who think stuff like that," Graystripe scoffed. "Don't listen to them – listen to yourself. And if you can't do that, listen to me! I'm confident you'll be able to pull ThunderClan out of this."

"Oh?"

"Well, yeah." Graystripe shrugged. "You've pulled them – and me – out of worse before."

A drop of water landed on Tinyclaw's nose. One drop became another, and another, and another; until a light rain was pouring down. Graystripe brushed past him. "Come on, before we're soaked."

Tinyclaw turned to follow, feeling the rain on his back. Graystripe's words made him feel better – but at the moment, it felt as if StarClan themselves were weeping at all the loss.


	29. Chapter 27

**I get a teensie bit graphic in this one, just a warning if you don't like burns!**

* * *

 **Chapter 27**

 _The smell of wet ash_ was almost welcoming in the late afternoon. The bitter odor meant that the fires had died with the rain.

"It has to be over now," Tinyclaw resolved. Graystripe shifted beside him in the reeds, his thick pelt damp. "We can go and see if it's safe for the Clan to return."

"And look for Yellowfang and Halftail," Graystripe added.

That was the real reason for Tinyclaw's restlessness – Graystripe knew him too well. Tinyclaw blinked at him with gratitude for his understanding.

"I'll have to ask Crookedstar if I can go," Graystripe reminded him.

"Of course," Tinyclaw replied, trying to hide his momentary shock. In the thick of this reunion, he'd almost forgotten that Graystripe was a RiverClan cat. _I missed him far more than I realized, I guess._

Graystripe was already up and heading down the slope. "I'll be right back," he tossed over his shoulder.

Tinyclaw pushed himself to his haunches and stretched. The wetness clinging to his fur made his muscles feel cold and creaky, like he were some elder. When warmth returned, he looked down the slope at his Clan, huddled in patches in the reed beds. His eyes caught Sandstorm with Dustpelt and Cinderpelt, and then he spotted Whitestorm with Tigerstar.

The white warrior seemed to be shielding Tigerstar from the troubled thoughts that plagued him. Tinyclaw frowned. Was the Clan beginning to see how their leader was suffering? Whitestorm and Tinyclaw couldn't keep it secret forever. Whitestorm's presence seemed to give Tigerstar the strength he needed, though, and Tinyclaw could never deny that the two were far closer than just old friends.

"Tinyclaw?" Cloudpaw's voice broke through Tinyclaw's thoughts. The ginger-and-white she-cat was padding towards him. There was still soot staining her fur. "Are you going back to camp now?"

"Graystripe and I are going to check," Tinyclaw meowed, "but we're not entirely certain all the fires are out. It might be too dangerous for a large group to go."

He anticipated his apprentice's desire to come along, and tried to counter it. Still she tried, though lacking her old defiance: "I would listen to everything you said."

"Then stay and take care of the Clan," Tinyclaw told her. "Whitestorm will need your help while I'm gone." He paused, and then asked, "How are the other apprentices?"

Cloudpaw blinked. "They're all scared and upset. I'm trying to keep them cheered up but it's hard. Ashpaw wants to change his name after all this… and I don't blame him."

"Nor do I," Tinyclaw sighed. "Their grief will pass – let them know that we'll be back in our territory as soon as we can be, and that we'll need every paw available to help rebuild. A great honor, if you ask me."

Cloudpaw looked skeptical at all the implied work ahead, but she didn't say anything about it. "I will," she said. "Thanks, Tinyclaw."

"Tell Whitestorm I'll be back by moonrise," Tinyclaw meowed.

Cloudpaw nodded and turned away, heading down the slope to Whitestorm's position. Tinyclaw watched after her, feeling pride overcome his anxieties. She was trying so hard, stifling her pride to serve her Clan. Like a true warrior.

Still, he hoped she'd follow his orders.

A moment later Graystripe wove through the reeds, Crookedstar's bulk padding behind him. Tinyclaw straightened his whiskers to meet the RiverClan leader. Crookedstar blinked at Tinyclaw. "Graystripe says that you want him to go with you over the river. Can you not take one of your own warriors?"

"I don't want to go alone," Tinyclaw admitted. "We lost two Clanmates in the fire, and…"

"I understand," Crookedstar meowed, nodding. "I wouldn't want to find them alone, either. Graystripe may go with you."

"Thank you, Crookedstar," Tinyclaw meowed gratefully. He dipped his head.

Graystripe led the way to the river. Tinyclaw felt as if he were looking into an entirely different forest – across the flowing waters, the forest was a blackened, charred contrast to where he was now. The fire had scorched everything, leaving almost nothing untouched but for the barest branches at the top of the tallest trees. There, leaves still managed to cling. But everywhere else? The forest was gone.

Tinyclaw's heart ached to look at it. Was this wasteland really his home? It all felt like such a horrible nightmare. StarClan knew he wished it was.

There was no speech as they slipped into the river and made their way across. The rains had swollen the river, bringing it back from the drought that had swallowed most of it. Graystripe paddled strongly, and Tinyclaw did his best to keep up – but he wasn't a RiverClan cat. No doubt that Graystripe had received special training to swim like they did. As they climbed onto the opposite bank the two could do nothing but stand there, dripping, staring at the remains of their homeland.

"This is…" Graystripe whimpered quietly. "Oh Tinyclaw… seeing the forest from across the river… was my only tie to home from there."

"I know," Tinyclaw breathed. Graystripe had his mate and his kits but it was clear he felt homesickness deep in his heart. There seemed to be no way to take the love for the forest out of a ThunderClan warrior's heart.

Graystripe charged over the border eagerly, and Tinyclaw followed. The gray warrior added a scent mark to the border – but Tinyclaw wondered if he was thinking about strengthening RiverClan's border… or ThunderClan's.

As they padded through the changed landscape, Graystripe seemed to have no fear – driven more by his homesickness than anything else. He sniffed every tree or bush they passed, weaving through the ashes and twigs that remained in the blackened forest. Tinyclaw, however, couldn't see anything but the forest has it had been – lush and green and safe, now black and ashen and foreboding. The gound was sticky underpaw, and the raindrops that dripped from the remains of the trees were cold and made Tinyclaw shiver.

A lone bird called bravely in the distance. Tinyclaw's heart ached from the loss. Would the prey return to the forest after this? _Will ThunderClan be able to survive?_

At last they reached the ravine. Below the camp was completely exposed, the thick greenery that had obscured it from view burned away to nothingness. Tinyclaw swallowed. Only the Highrock remained unchanged – dens were burned away and the earth was scorched black, but the Highrock was only covered by a thin layer of wet ash.

Tinyclaw bolted down the ravine, leaping the charred remains of what was once a tree. The bush where Mistykit had cowered was nothing but a charred stump. He searched frantically for the gorse tunnel that served as the Clan's entrance; but there was nothing but thin, brittle sticks left. They caught in his fur as he pushed his way through.

The camp was stained with smoke, the grass dead and burned and the dens nothing but brittle stems. The nursery had suffered the least – its thickly-woven stems looked more forbidding without the leaves. The ravine walls that had sheltered ThunderClan for seasons upon seasons were scorched black. Tinyclaw's heart pounded in his ears as he took it all in, the glory of the camp before this moment flashing in his eyes rapidly.

Graystripe's nudge brought him out of the panic. Tinyclaw, breathing heavily, followed Graystripe's muzzle as he pointed towards the medicine cat's den. The protective lichen and ferns had been burned away, leaving the secluded area unnaturally exposed. Tinyclaw could see the split stone where Yellowfang slept from where he stood.

Halftail lay by the former fern tunnel, his body thin and blackened by smoke. Tinyclaw gagged – the poor elder had been stripped almost furless by the flames, his flesh twisted in horrible ways. Yellowfang must have been trying to drag him to her den, where the flames might not reach. Graystripe swallowed his own bile at the sight.

"I'll bury him," Graystripe meowed solemnly. "Look for Yellowfang."

Tinyclaw only nodded absently. His legs were locked with dread even after Graystripe had dragged Halftail's blackened body out into the forest. Time seemed to stop as he stared into the medicine cat's den, the tunnel itself flexing in his vision until it seemed like an insurmountable distance.

 _This is why I came back,_ he thought, his throat dry. _But I didn't expect… oh, StarClan…_

He had to force his stiff legs to take him into the fern tunnel. Without the greenery sheltering it, the area seemed even more oppressive. Tinyclaw's fear of small spaces seemed to make it feel like the walls were closing in, pulsing with the beat of his heart. Each stiff step seemed to be an eternity, until he was in the medicine cat's clearing proper.

"Y-Yellowfang?" he called, his voice cracked and hoarse.

He stared at the medicine cat's den. The cracked rock was blackened with soot but beneath the smell of it Tinyclaw could detect Yellowfang's familiar scent. "Yellowfang?" he asked, more strongly. He could smell her… she was at least that much alive.

From inside the cave came a low rasp. Someone trying to call out – Yellowfang! Tinyclaw's heart leapt with hope as he plunged into the shadowy cavern…

… only to be filled with despair as he saw her.

Yellowfang was huddled in her nest, her breathing slow and ragged. As his eyes adjusted to the light, Tinyclaw could see her better – her orange eyes were half-closed, reddened with smoke. Her pelt was darkened by soot and patched. She had been burned, too, especially on her paws. They looked so small and twisted without her thick layer of fur covering them. Her wheezing intensified as she spotted him in the gloom.

"Tinyclaw…?" she rasped.

"Yes," Tinyclaw meowed, voice breaking. "Yes, yes! It's me, Yellowfang." He rushed to her side, pressing himself close to her. She'd been burned by the flames but she was so _cold…_

"I'm glad… it was you," Yellowfang mewled. She trembled with every breath, every word. "I wanted to… see you again."

Tinyclaw pinned his eyes to hers, but it seemed like she couldn't see him – at least, not well. The smoke must have damaged her eyes as well as he lungs. Tinyclaw felt claws sink into his heart. No, not this. _No._

"I… I _left_ you," Tinyclaw whimpered. He shook from ears to tail. "I shouldn't have. Oh Yellowfang, I'm _so sorry…"_

"Stop that," Yellowfang rasped strongly. "This instant, you…" she broke into a fit of coughing. "You mouse-brain. Did you save… Patchpelt?"

"No," Tinyclaw meowed. It felt somewhat good to be scolded by her, even though she was dying. "He breathed in too much smoke."

"Halftail, too," Yellowfang admitted.

Tinyclaw sighed. At least Halftail hadn't felt the flames.

Yellowfang shuddered with grief and pain. Tinyclaw said quickly, "We saved Mistykit, though!"

"Good," Yellowfang breathed. Her eyelids twitched. She couldn't blink. "That little kit… watch her, Tinyclaw… She's not her mother's daughter. She never… will be."

Tinyclaw swallowed. Had Yellowfang seen something of this fate, of Mistykit's future? He knew he wouldn't be able to learn of it if she did.

Yellowfang coughed again, drawing in a hoarse, grating breath before going on: "I don't have much time, Tinyclaw – please, listen to me." Tinyclaw leaned into her fur. "You're a brave warrior. I could not be prouder of you if you were my own son… and StarClan knows that I… that I often wished you were, instead of… Brokentail."

Tinyclaw pressed closer to her as she spoke. Medicine cats were forbidden to have kits, but Yellowfang had fallen in love with Raggedstar, one of ShadowClan's former leaders. Their only surviving son, Brokentail, had led a cruel, tyrannical reign – exiling his own mother to die for crimes he'd pinned on her. And when Brokentail had been sheltered by ThunderClan as a prisoner, and revealed to have worked with Bluefur…

"I killed him," Yellowfang rasped. "I fed him deathberries, and rid the forest of his dark heart. I wanted him to die… I wanted no other cat to suffer by his paws…"

"Yellowfang," Tinyclaw offered, "please… calm down… Let me find you some water."

"Water will do me no good, Tinyclaw," Yellowfang snapped. "You know that. I… Ah… I know that. Let me bear my soul before I die."

Tinyclaw didn't bother protesting. The grim reality of Yellowfang's death was settling on his shoulders. How could it not? What would ever ease her pain now but to speak her mind? It hurt, oh did it hurt, like claws piercing his heart – but it wasn't to be changed. Not everything could be changed.

Her eyes softened, though they didn't focus on him. "I'm not afraid to die, Tinyclaw," she breathed raggedly. "I will face my judgment in StarClan, same as… any other cat. And if darkness awaits me… then so be it.

"I wished with all my heart that you were my son… but that could not be. I could not have borne a cat like you. StarClan gave me Brokentail to teach… teach me a lesson."

"Why?" Tinyclaw breathed, voice thick with emotion. "What lesson could you have to learn? You fell in love and made a mistake – StarClan sending you Brokentail punishes the whole forest, not just you."

"Ah… see…" Yellowfang breathed. "There is the lesson. Our actions have consequences, Tinyclaw… One tiny action can… affect the entire forest. It can change everything." Now her eyes focused on him, intensely. Her words rang through his mind. "You will do great things, Tinyclaw… feel no guilt for my death. My fate is my own."

"Yellowfang…" Tinyclaw voice squeaked like a kit's.

"Take care of ThunderClan," she whispered. "Or I'll find you and box… your ears. Mouse-brain…"

Tinyclaw trembled. "No, Yellowfang. Please…" _Don't go,_ he cried inwardly. _Yellowfang…_

"Thank you, Tinyclaw," Yellowfang rasped. Her eyes twitched, and then shut. "Thank you for bringing me here… giving me a home. I…"

"It's all right," Tinyclaw meowed quietly. He ran his tongue along her fur, lapping it gently, pouring all his love for the old she-cat into the gesture. His actions wouldn't keep her in the forest any longer, but he had no other way of showing his appreciation for her. "StarClan will forgive you, Yellowfang. They'll see all the good you've done…"

Words tumbled out of his mouth, stories of Yellowfang's great deeds as ThunderClan's medicine cat and as his friend. Even before he was done, Yellowfang's body had stilled – but the words kept coming, to carry her to StarClan.

When the warmth had faded from her body, Tinyclaw gently closed her eyes. "And Yellowfang…?" his voice was hoarse from talking, but the sadness was gone. "I never knew my mother for long… kittypets don't get to spend much time with their mothers before they're given to other Twolegs."

He swallowed. "Trust me, please… I wouldn't want to have any other cat for a mother. I'm so glad you were there.

"Thank you, Yellowfang. For everything."


	30. Chapter 28

**Hey all – I've gotten some reviews criticizing how I've been writing these stories (this one in particular). The fact is that yes, I do keep the books beside me while I write these stories – its so I can keep the events that happen straight, keep track of character arcs, and keep in dialogue I liked or edit stuff I didn't like or didn't work in my opinion. It's not precisely the best way of doing things but this project wasn't about changing the series** _ **entirely**_ **– just switching stuff out for fun and running with some of my own headcanons to see what happened.**

 **Rising Storm is probably, honestly, the worst of the original series – nothing much happens of note (other than the fire) and for what I had planned there was little wiggle room for changes. The biggest ones for this book were that Runningwind** _ **and**_ **Thornpaw died – for the changes I had planned, too much needed to stay the same. Looking back, I didn't think through** _ **every**_ **event as best as I could when I started this, which is why Rising Storm has come out so… samey and, frankly, skippable (sort of like the original, lol).**

 **I've got the rest of this one written, so it'll update 'till the end like normal. But the payoff for almost all of my changes will come in A Dangerous Path, surprisingly, so I'll be changing up the way I write these with that one.**

 **I'm sorry if I've disappointed any of you readers with these stories, or just this one in particular – it's my job to entertain and I can honestly say that I dropped the ball here.**

 **Thanks for reading anyway - Twilight**

* * *

 **Chapter 28**

 _Tinyclaw didn't know how long_ he lay with Yellowfang, pressed into her cold fur as if trying to warm her back to life. The sadness of her death pricked at his heart, but her words had eased his guilt. Yellowfang wouldn't have wanted him to feel guilty for this – she would want him to carry on, stronger than before. _Stop grieving for the long-lost,_ she would have said, _the living need your attention now._

" _She will be safe with us,"_ whispered a voice. A sweet scent touched Tinyclaw's nose, and it took him a long time to place it – Spottedleaf, the ThunderClan medicine cat before Yellowfang. He'd only known her for a brief time before she was killed by the former ShadowClan warrior Clawface in battle. Tinyclaw could see her faint outline in the entrance of the fern tunnel, shafts of sunlight shining through her starry tortoiseshell pelt. Beside her hulked a large, rumpled figure…

"Yellowfang," he whispered.

Yellowfang's spirit was as faint as Spottedleaf's, but Tinyclaw could see he grin and hear her purr in his ear. Happiness soared in Tinyclaw's heart – Yellowfang _would_ go to StarClan. Spottedleaf was guiding her to the stars.

"Tinyclaw?" Another shape appeared in the fern tunnel – Graystripe. He blundered into Spottedleaf and Yellowfang's forms, causing them to disappear. He didn't seem to know they were there. Graystripe's eyes gleamed in the gloom of the medicine cat's cavern until he spotted Tinyclaw huddled in the crack of the rock. "StarClan! There you are – you blend right in, you know that?"

"Sorry," Tinyclaw rasped. He padded out of the den. The forest all around was quiet in the evening – night would come soon. If they were to make it back to RiverClan territory by moonrise as promised, they'd have to get going soon. "Yellowfang is dead."

"I thought so," Graystripe sighed. "I'm sure she didn't go without chewing out the flames for being too hot, first."

"I hope so," Tinyclaw agreed.

"I buried Halftail," Graystripe went on. "Should we bury Yellowfang as well?"

"Not yet," Tinyclaw decided. "She was a warrior as well as a medicine cat – she deserves her night's vigil and being buried in dawn's light."

Graystripe frowned. "We promised Crookedstar we'd be back by moonrise."

Tinyclaw looked back, picking out Yellowfang's shape in the darkness of her den. "Don't worry – we'll go back to RiverClan; but I'll come back to sit with her."

* * *

The trek through the devastated forest was silent. Graystripe and Tinyclaw arrived at the RiverClan camp just as the sun was beginning to set, with cats gathered around the edges of the clearing to share tongues and eat. _Not so different from ThunderClan,_ Tinyclaw decided.

Brackenfur met them at the entrance, limping over from where he'd lain beside Tigerstar and Whitestorm. Tigerstar got to his paws, too, following behind the limping medicine cat. His amber eyes lay on Tinyclaw, full of curiosity.

"You didn't find them, did you?" Brackenfur guessed.

Tinyclaw swallowed, glancing at Graystripe. Then, he locked eyes with Brackenfur. "Halftail and Yellowfang are both dead."

Brackenfur only sighed. "I thought so," he murmured. "I felt… something, earlier. Just before you came. A voice in my ear, saying good-bye. StarClan light their path."

"Dead?" echoed Tigerstar. The curiosity in his eyes hardened, and Tinyclaw held his breath. "This fire… StarClan sent it to destroy us!"

"That's not true," Brackenfur insisted.

"Brackenfur is right," Tinyclaw meowed, taking a step towards Tigerstar. "A fire is a fire – StarClan wouldn't do something like this."

Tigerstar's eyes were cold and hard. "You don't know that," he insisted.

Tinyclaw swallowed hard. Was his leader truly sinking so deep into his depression that he was beginning to think StarClan was against them? How could Tinyclaw make him see that this was all just unfortunate circumstance? _I won't be able to,_ he realized dimly. _Tigerstar is so wrapped up in his own mind that I don't think I'll ever be able to get through to him… but I won't stop trying._

"We're leaving tonight," Tigerstar decided firmly.

"The woods are empty," Graystripe insisted, shock in his eyes. "The camp is ruined!"

"We will make do," Tigerstar growled, meeting Graystripe's eyes. "We are strangers here, and our presence will only hurt RiverClan as time goes on."

Graystripe's ears twitched. "Maybe I could escort you?"

"Why would we need an escort through our own territory?" Tigerstar wondered. His voice was low, a dangerous sound.

"I could stay a few days… help you rebuild, maybe, and…"

Graystripe had no idea of his former leader's mental state. Tinyclaw opened his jaws to stop him, but realized suddenly that Graystripe was more than just homesick. He wanted to come back to the forest where he'd been born and belonged. Tinyclaw's heart sank.

Tigerstar's eyes flashed. "You cannot return to ThunderClan," he growled. Graystripe flinched. "You made your choice, Graystripe. You chose to stay with your mate and your kits. You made your choice and now you will live with it!"

Within that growl Tinyclaw could hear insistence. Tigerstar's mind may have been faltering but the massive tom knew the similarities between him and the gray warrior. Tigerstar's own kits, Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt, lived here, in RiverClan. Tigerstar had never known of them until recently. Graystripe had the chance to make better choices.

Tigerstar turned about and shouted: "ThunderClan! We are leaving at once!"

While the Clan got to their paws, shocked at the suddenness of the news, Tinyclaw turned to Graystripe. The gray warrior was staring at Tigerstar, eyes wide, stunned off his paws.

"He has his reasons," Tinyclaw insisted. "He's in a lot of pain right now; he'll recover."

Graystripe swallowed. "You think so?"

Tinyclaw blinked at his friend, and then looked past him. Brambleclaw and Tawnypelt had been sharing tongues, but the two sat up to look over at the ThunderClan cats. Between them, their mother, Goldenflower, Tigerstar's old mate, sat. The golden-pelted she-cat was looking evenly at Tigerstar, her eyes filled with old emotions. Her kits watched only as warriors, unaware of Tigerstar's importance.

 _Tigerstar has had to stay here among family that doesn't even know or acknowledge him,_ Tinyclaw realized suddenly. _No wonder he wants to leave so suddenly._ Tinyclaw couldn't even imagine how that felt.

"Yes, Graystripe, I do," Tinyclaw replied, turning to lick Graystripe's shoulder. "Do you… really want to come home, Graystripe?"

The gray warrior faltered. "I… I don't know," he admitted quietly. "I miss ThunderClan with all my heart but my kits… Silverstream… I don't know if I could bear being apart from them. I just. This past little bit has my head spinning, you know? I wish…"

"Wish what?"

"That I _could_ come back – but bring Silverstream and the kits, too," Graystripe sighed. "That won't work, though. I… He's right. I made my choice, Tinyclaw. ThunderClan will always be in my heart and will always be my home… but my kits need to know their father. I didn't know mine."

Tinyclaw nodded, though his heart hurt. He hoped Graystripe's ties to ThunderClan wouldn't get him into trouble within RiverClan. Crookedstar, at least, seemed more easygoing about things.

"They're going to leave without you," Graystripe realized.

Tinyclaw sighed. Tigerstar had all of ThunderClan on their paws and lined up to leave. Tinyclaw murmured good-bye to his friend, touching muzzles one last time before heading over to Tigerstar's side. The big tabby had Crookedstar and Leopardfur before him, talking quietly.

"… ThunderClan owes you a debt, Crookedstar," Tigerstar was saying. "Thank you for sheltering us."

"I did only what any good cat ought to," Crookedstar meowed, nodding to Tigerstar. "Fire is a danger to every cat. Safe journey, Tigerstar."

Tigerstar nodded and turned away. Tinyclaw followed, but not before seeing Leopardfur's eyes narrow at Tigerstar thoughtfully. Crookedstar might be easygoing, but Leopardfur was ambitious. The mention of a debt would no doubt make ideas float to the surface of her mind. What would she ask for in return? Tinyclaw feared to guess.

Tinyclaw followed his Clanmates as they filed out of RiverClan's camp one-by-one. Finally, it was his turn – he pushed through the reeds and rushes and out into the open, feeling Graystripe's pain-filled eyes on him every step of the way.

* * *

"Hurry up!"

Smallear started at Tigerstar's shout. Tinyclaw sighed. The poor old tom was still balking at the water's edge in an echo of his performance during the Clan's escape. In his defense, the river had swollen from the rain – but Whitestorm and Longtail were waiting on the opposite bank, giving encouragement to the others.

All in all, despite the rush, the Clan was doing much better than they had before – Sandstorm was helping Brackenfur across, while Dustpelt and Cinderpelt helped the apprentices. Oakheart waded with the queens, Mosskit in his jaws.

Finally, Smallear sighed and stepped into the water. Whitestorm met him halfway, buoying up the elder with his shoulder and to the other side. Tigerstar slipped in afterward, paws churning strongly, as if the fire had burned away his weakness. Tinyclaw waded in after him, the last of his Clan to leave RiverClan territory.

Tinyclaw pulled himself up onto the shore, his pelt uncomfortably soaked. He shook his coat out and padded over to the others. Tinyclaw met Sandstorm and Brackenfur amongst the crowd, touching noses with Brackenfur and licking Sandstorm between the ears, delighted by her purr in response. Despite the ashen gloom of the forest now, at least he still had her.

The Clan seemed shocked at the sight of their blackened, burned home. Most stood at the bank of the river, eyes wide as they took it all in. The faint moonlight didn't disguise the destruction – in fact, it accentuated the barren landscape, making the leafless trees look like tall, imposing creatures waiting for them in the depths. Tinyclaw could hear his Clanmates murmuring, unsettled.

"It's awful," Sandstorm murmured, sorrow in her eyes. "I can't believe it."

The smell of burnt leaves and scorched earth filled the air. "I know," Tinyclaw agreed.

Tigerstar seemed blind to the destruction. The big tabby tom strode through the blackened undergrowth and up the trail to Sunningrocks and home. The Clan could do nothing but follow, wet fur gleaming in the half light.

"It's like… being somewhere else," Cloudpaw remarked, coming up beside Tinyclaw as they walked. "Like a nightmare."

Tinyclaw didn't think that Cloudpaw had ever been more right about anything in her life. He could only nod. "How are the elders?"

"Grieving, but I managed to get them to eat some fresh-kill while you were gone," Cloudpaw replied.

"Thank you," Tinyclaw meowed. "For that, and for staying when I told you to."

"No problem," Cloudpaw chirped.

Tinyclaw watched her slip through the crowd and up to the other apprentices. Fernpaw looked sullen and Ashpaw seemed to want nothing more than to stare right ahead. Brightpaw and Swiftpaw huddled with Cloudpaw in quiet conversation. They'd lost so much recently – a denmate first, and now the forest itself. Still, Tinyclaw was grateful that Cloudpaw seemed to finally be learning some compassion.

The ravine lay open and barren before them before too long. Tinyclaw spotted Sandstorm trembling as she looked over the edge and into the exposed camp. He stayed by her side as they followed the Clan in picking their way down the slope and into the camp. Tinyclaw felt cold, and not just from his once-damp fur. The solemnity of the moment lay on his shoulders like a stifling Twoleg blanket.

Slowly the Clan filtered into the blackened, barren openness of their camp. Shocked mews quieted when it was discovered instantly just how the leaves had once muffled all sound. Tigerstar seemed not to see any of it, striding towards the Highrock and then turning to demand, "Take me to Yellowfang's body!"

Tinyclaw flinched. There was something about the sharpness of Tigerstar's tone that Tinyclaw didn't like – this wasn't the gentle giant of a leader he'd known as an apprentice, nor the shell of a cat that had been on display as of late. Tinyclaw had no idea what was going on in Tigerstar's head any longer, and that frightened him more than any enemy. Still, he obeyed, leading Tigerstar towards the medicine cat's clearing. No cat followed but Brackenfur, who limped behind Tigerstar quietly.

"She's in her den," Tinyclaw reported, stopping himself at the shadows of the great split rock. Tigerstar huffed and pushed his way inside. Brackenfur did not follow, and Tinyclaw gave him a confused look.

"I will grieve later," Brackenfur stated simply, quietly. "Tigerstar needs us now. This will not be easy."

There was great composure in Brackenfur's voice, and Tinyclaw was not surprised. Brackenfur had always been far more patient and easygoing than his sister, who might have had trouble overcoming such grief. Tinyclaw felt a twinge of pride for his former apprentice.

But he was right – a thin wailing started from the den, and Tigerstar staggered out, eyes wide with grief and sorrow. His legs shook, his tail dragging the ground. "How could they do this?" he whispered in a panic. "Have they no pity? So much… they have taken _so much…"_

Tigerstar spat on the ground. "I will never go to the Moonstone again," he declared, his voice a powerful growl. "StarClan has declared war on my Clan, killing our cats and setting our home ablaze! Never again will they share my dreams – and I will never forgive them for this!"

Tinyclaw's eyes widened in shock, legs locked in horror. Behind them, Brackenfur slipped quietly into the medicine cat's den – not to grieve for Yellowfang, but to come out a moment later with something in his jaws. He laid it at Tigerstar's paws.

"Eat these, Tigerstar," he asked gently. "They will ease your pain."

Tinyclaw blinked as Tigerstar began to quietly lap up the leaves and seeds. He looked to Brackenfur, confused: "He's not injured, though."

"In a way, he is," Brackenfur stated quietly. "Cats can receive more than just physical injuries – Yellowfang was teaching me about them before…" he trailed off, but continued a heartbeat later – "anyway, what Tigerstar is suffering is something like having thorns wrapped around your heart. They're hard to remove but the pain can be lessened."

Tinyclaw blinked. "That makes… sense," he admitted.

"Yellowfang had a way with describing ailments," Brackenfur breathed. "Like she could feel them herself, almost. She had a ways of making someone understand."

Brackenfur brushed against Tigerstar who, thankfully, didn't seem to hear anything they'd said. Too caught up in his own mind for it. "Come," Brackenfur soothed him, "let's go rest."

Tigerstar let himself be led away by the golden-brown tabby tom, and when they emerged into the clearing Whitestorm was there to join them on their way. Tinyclaw sighed, and then turned into the medicine cat's den to retrieve Yellowfang.

He pulled her body into the clearing for her vigil, arranging her so that it looked like she was resting despite her blackened, furless paws and red-lined eyelids. There was a dignity to the pose, something like the old Yellowfang that made Tinyclaw wistful. Then, he tucked his paws beneath him and lay down to keep vigil.

There was nothing more to say to her, but she would rest beneath the stars one last time.

* * *

Brackenfur joined him as the moon began sliding down the sky. _Three quarters,_ Tinyclaw thought. _Almost time for a Gathering._ The thought was subdued by the blackened treetops against the pink-and-purple skyline. These past few days felt like a lifetime; when had the last Gathering been? What had even happened?

"It's all gone," Tinyclaw murmured as he felt Brackenfur's body press against his. "The forest, Yellowfang…"

"Don't grieve too much," Brackenfur pointed out calmly. "Yellowfang rests with StarClan now, hunts in their forests and drinks of their water – and the forest will regrow, stronger than before. So will ThunderClan."

Brackenfur's faith was unwavering and soothing, and Tinyclaw was grateful for it. He got to his paws, giving Brackenfur a nod before going to check on the rest of his Clan. Cats dotted the edges of the clearing, huddled in the shadows of burned and bristling branches. Mousefur stood on guard outside Tigerstar's den, something that made Tinyclaw's head tilt.

"Brackenfur ordered it," Whitestorm murmured. "And I agree – Tigerstar's condition is wavering, and he needs someone to make sure he's all right."

Tinyclaw nodded in understanding. "It cannot fall to you all the time," he agreed.

The white warrior's eyes were red-rimmed from the fire, and no doubt some exhaustion. "Tigerstar is… important to me," he admitted. "Someone I care deeply for. Seeing him like this is… taxing."

Tinyclaw blinked in sympathy at the old warrior. _You can say you love him, Whitestorm,_ he thought. _I know Tigerstar feels similarly. I may be small, but I'm not blind._

"We need to send out a dawn patrol," Tinyclaw meowed. "This fire was bound to attract attention, and the borders haven't been renewed for a time. How is the Clan?"

"Tired," Whitestorm responded. "But most managed to get some sleep. Who will you send?"

"I'm thinking about it," Tinyclaw admitted. "There's so much to do. Rebuilding the camp, strengthening the borders, hunting… StarClan above, do we even have enough cats for any of it?"

Whitestorm's whiskers twitched. "We're about to find out."

"I want you here," Tinyclaw decided. "To help with organizing this."

"Of course," Whitestorm agreed. "Should we tell Tigerstar?"

"No, we'll let him rest," Tinyclaw meowed. "I'll address the Clan."

He turned and leaped onto the Highrock in a single bound, calling the familiar summons as he reached its peak. The Clan gathered slowly, looking up at him in confusion as he called them from the place where the leader should be standing. Tinyclaw planted his paws. _I'm not taking Tigerstar's place, I'm simply doing what must be done._ As he had always done.

"We must rebuild," he announced to those gathered below. All eyes were on him. "Each cat needs to do their part – this will be a long process, but in the end, ThunderClan will be far stronger for it. Greenleaf is not yet over; the forest has time to grow back more lush than before." Brackenfur's eyes flashed from below as Tinyclaw echoed his words.

"Where is Tigerstar?" Longtail wondered. "Shouldn't he be telling us this?"

It wasn't a challenge like it would have been long before Bluefur, but a concerned question. "He's resting," Tinyclaw responded. "He needs to rest and recover." The Clan clamored worriedly.

"The more time he has to rest, the quicker he will get better," Brackenfur added, his voice patiently rising above the worries. "Like the forest."

"The forest is empty," Brindleface pointed out. "I don't know about you, but I smelled not a hint of prey as we returned! What will we eat?" The Clan was clamoring again, cats looking at one another and at Tinyclaw as if he had all the answers.

"The prey will come back," Tinyclaw insisted. "We must hunt as usual, but we'll have to range further than before. There have to be parts of the territory where the fire didn't touch as badly. We will do everything we can to feed the Clan." Murmurs of agreement rose from within the crowd. Tinyclaw felt a surge of confidence as it seemed like they were calming down.

"Longtail, Fernpaw, Oakheart, and Cinderpelt – you will take the dawn patrol," Tinyclaw decided. "Swiftpaw, you will replace Mousefur on guard duty and make sure that Tigerstar is not disturbed. Whitestorm will organize parties to gather materials to rebuild the camp. Dustpelt, you will organize cats to start building up the broken dens and the boundaries."

"How?" Dustpelt wondered. "I'm good with my paws, sure; but the ferns are all burned away."

"We'll have to use everything at our disposal," Tinyclaw admitted. "We'll need to be creative – just don't forget to make it strong. Bluefur is still out there, and this fire has no doubt painted a target on us from the other Clans, too. We need to be alert – all kits stay in camp, and apprentices don't go out without their mentors or another warrior. No one goes into the forest alone. Understood?"

Loud mews of agreement rose from the Clan below.

"Good!" Tinyclaw called. "Now, let's get to work!"

The cats broke apart, weaving around one another to get on to their duties. Unassigned cats went to Whitestorm and Dustpelt for instructions. Tinyclaw padded down the Highrock, breathing a sigh of relief – that went far better than he'd hoped. Speaking to the Clan was nothing compared to the way tight, cramped placed made him feel.

He approached Sandstorm after he leaped off of the Highrock. "We need to organize a party to bury Yellowfang," he told her.

"You didn't mention her death at all," Sandstorm pointed out, eyes filled with confusion. Cloudpaw, beside her, added, "Or Halftail's!" Tinyclaw's apprentice scrutinized him as if he'd done something reproachful.

Tinyclaw swallowed. "I didn't see much point – the Clan knows they're dead. Brackenfur's already said the proper words."

"And Tigerstar?" Sandstorm wondered. Cloudpaw sighed and stalked off to Whitestorm, clearly unsatisfied by Tinyclaw's words. "What if he doesn't recover?"

Tinyclaw frowned. "I don't… I don't know, Sandstorm," he breathed. He looked into her green eyes, questioning and concerned. She wasn't a leader in this Clan – just a warrior. She only knew what she was told when it came to Tigerstar. "This is… a lot harder than it ever seemed."

Sandstorm's eyes softened. "I'm sorry," she said. "I know you're under a lot of pressure – but we're all so _worried_ about Tigerstar. Something's wrong, and we aren't kits, you know. We've noticed his… behavior."

"I'm doing my best," Tinyclaw told her. "Please… trust that."

"I do," Sandstorm meowed. "I trust you, Tinyclaw. I'll go find cats to help bury Yellowfang."

She brushed her muzzle against his, and Tinyclaw breathed in her scent. It filled him with the energy he needed, and her words warmed his heart despite the fear they brought. The Clan would notice sooner or later that Tigerstar was absent, and no doubt they were beginning to ask questions themselves as the excuses began to pile up. Tigerstar _was_ ill – there was no doubt about that, but…

… what _if_ Tigerstar never recovered?


	31. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

 _The intermittent showers over the_ next few days did little to halt their progress. Tinyclaw hoped that the water would soothe the soil and help the forest begin to regrow – and at the very least the heat that had plagued the forest before the fire had been dampened considerably. Now it felt like a normal greenleaf, even cooler now that the trees couldn't capture the humidity in their leaves.

 _The sky ought to be clear for the Gathering,_ Tinyclaw thought, still looking up. The clouds were wispy and gray but there were considerable patches of blue sky between them. By tonight, it all ought to be gone. No clouds to shroud the moonlight.

For once, though, Tinyclaw wanted the moon hidden. He didn't want to travel all the way to Fourtrees just to show the Clans that Tigerstar was growing more and more obviously negligent. If the fire didn't draw the Clans to attack ThunderClan in a moment of weakness, seeing Tigerstar the way he was would – the formerly confident tabby warrior would only leave the den if Whitestorm convinced him now, and only for enough time to nod at the Clan's progress before retreating. Would he even care that there was a Gathering tonight? Did he remember?

Tinyclaw shook his mind of the thoughts for a moment and got to his paws, padding around the perimeter of the camp. Seeing the restoration progress made his heart swell with pride – it was difficult, grueling work, but it was being done, and being done well. Dustpelt turned out to be exceptionally good with the repairs – he had quite the mind for it. With his guidance, the camp was beginning to regain its shape.

The hollowed-out elder's den was blackened and burnt, its protective branches and vines burned away, but it was still in one piece. The nursery was a skeleton of its former self, all protective thorns and thick branches burned to small blackened twigs – but Dustpelt had the apprentices weaving tougher branches through the gaps, filling in the holes. It didn't look as welcoming, but it certainly looked impregnable. Dustpelt had applied the technique in the camp's outer barrier, too; in place of the ferns that had once lushly sheltered the camp from prying eyes there was a tightly-woven barrier of tough branches. Gaps everywhere were filled in with what remained of the leaves in the forest. It wasn't all done yet, but Tinyclaw had to admit it looked more than formidable.

 _If we do go to the Gathering tonight,_ Tinyclaw thought, _I'll need to make sure Dustpelt's work gets mentioned. It's impeccable._

Tinyclaw's ears twitched as they picked up a scratching behind the nursery. He discovered Cloudpaw there, mouth stuffed with leaves and twigs as she worked with them, weaving them into the gaps that still remained there.

He had to call to her twice before she heard, and when she turned Tinyclaw understood why. The poor cat was exhausted. She had been working twice as hard as almost any cat since they returned, volunteering to work even when other cats were beyond tired. No cat questioned her loyalty or her commitment now – Cloudpaw was becoming almost as good a builder as Dustpelt.

"Go and rest," Tinyclaw told her gently. "You've more than earned it."

"I'm not done yet," she replied tiredly.

"You can finish it later."

"I'd like to do it now," she insisted.

"You're dead on your paws," Tinyclaw told her. _An attack can come at any time_ – the old mantra chilled him but it was true, especially with the camp so exposed and their warriors so exhausted. "Go and rest; that's an order."

Cloudpaw sighed. "Yes, Tinyclaw." The young she-cat glanced at the elder's den. Smallear was there, with One-eye and Dappletail. They were talking quietly, but their eyes had been full of sorrow since they'd returned. "It's so… empty now," she lamented.

"Patchpelt and Halftail are watching them from StarClan," Tinyclaw told her. "They're watching you, too."

Cloudpaw sighed, as if the assurance wasn't enough for her. But she padded onward, leaving Tinyclaw frowning. Brackenfur had spoken the proper words to send their spirits to StarClan – but only after Tigerstar had refused. _"I will not let StarClan hold a single warrior of ThunderClan hostage,"_ he'd ranted. _"They will not use them against us! They are undeserving after all they've done!"_

Tinyclaw watched Cloudpaw flop down beside the apprentice's den. Brightpaw and Swiftpaw met her there, both looking more energized than her. Brightpaw spoke something to Swiftpaw, sending the young cat to the fresh-kill pile and back while Brightpaw huddled next to Cloudpaw, their ginger-and-white pelts almost matching. Swiftpaw returned with a scraggly mouse and then huddled against Cloudpaw's other side, licking her ear rhythmically before he and Brightpaw began to groom Cloudpaw's grubby pelt.

Frown deepening, Tinyclaw looked away. He sighed. He was glad that Cloudpaw had such kind, loyal friends – their attentiveness to one another reminded him of how he and Graystripe had been, reminded him of how much he missed his friend.

Tinyclaw turned his paws towards the Highrock. Longtail stood guard there, and he nodded as Tinyclaw approached. The lichen that had once screened Tigerstar's den from view had been burned away, and Tinyclaw could see right through to Tigerstar himself inside. Brackenfur was with him. Tigerstar looked as if he hadn't groomed himself since the fire.

Uttering a greeting, Tinyclaw stepped inside.

"More medicine?" Tigerstar huffed, narrowing his eyes at Brackenfur. Tigerstar's voice was soft – at least he still had tact enough not to let every cat hear him. "Every day with this, Brackenfur. I don't need medicine!"

"Yes, you do," Brackenfur stated simply. His voice was soft, too. "It's the best thing for you right now, Tigerstar. It will soothe those thoughts you have. Ease your fears."

"I don't… want them right now," Tigerstar sighed. There was a somewhat practiced resignation to his tone, as if he and Brackenfur had this discussion routinely now.

"They'll be here when you do," Brackenfur said. "Just be sure to take them."

The golden brown tom seemed satisfied with that. He got to his paws and limped towards the exit, passing Tinyclaw along the way. "Don't worry," he said as he padded out, "he does always take the medicine, eventually."

Tinyclaw coughed, and then cautiously padded closer to Tigerstar. The big tabby leader was staring at his medicine as if it might leap up and attack him. Now Tigerstar was jumping at leaves, it seemed, along with everything else. Tinyclaw felt at his wit's end with how to handle this.

"What is it?" Tigerstar wondered. His tone was tired, and he didn't look at Tinyclaw.

"Oh, well." Tinyclaw hadn't expected to be addressed; perhaps Tigerstar's interaction with Brackenfur had woken him up, so to speak. "I'm here about the Gathering, Tigerstar. I'm wondering if we're going tonight, and who we're taking."

"The Gathering?" Tigerstar echoed. His eyes unfocused, as if he were puzzling out the word – and then they hardened. "You go. You decide. I will not be attending any more Gatherings. I've no reason to honor StarClan any long-" he broke off as a cloud of ash flowed through the open entrance, causing him to wheeze. "Any longer."

Tinyclaw froze in shock. Tigerstar coughed afterward, his large body wracked with spasms. Yet Tinyclaw could hardly react to that – Tigerstar not going to a Gathering?! He, the cat who had taught Tinyclaw the importance of honoring and remembering their warrior ancestors, refusing to do so? Tinyclaw stared in disbelief. Tigerstar had based his whole life on these beliefs, same as any Clan cat.

"You don't have to go to honor StarClan," he tried. "B-But… you could be there for your own Clan! To show we're not weak, to give ThunderClan your strength!"

Tigerstar narrowed his eyes at Tinyclaw. "My strength? If I had been strong, truly strong… I would have ignored StarClan when they said I had a great destiny. I would have leapt at the chance to be with Goldenflower and the kits. Is this my destiny, Tinyclaw? Is this what StarClan promised? To lose my kin and friends and have my Clan harried by threats at every turn, all for some _destiny?_ "

The old leader's eyes hardened into amber claws. "StarClan was wrong," he growled. "None of this was worth it."

Tinyclaw swallowed, trying to keep from trembling as he backed out of Tigerstar's den. Sandstorm had replaced Longtail outside, and thank StarClan it seemed like she had heard none of that. She looked concernedly at him, but Tinyclaw could not seek her comfort – he gave her an apologetic blink before padding away.

Disconcerted, Tinyclaw flicked his tail at Whitestorm as the old warrior padded in with the sunhigh patrol. The other cats dispersed while Whitestorm came to meet him – it didn't seem like anything was amiss. Thank StarClan, like Tinyclaw needed that right now.

"Tigerstar isn't well enough to go to the Gathering," Tinyclaw reported quietly.

The news was no shock to Whitestorm. "There was a time when nothing would have kept him from attending," he murmured. "What is your plan?"

"We'll take a party anyway," Tinyclaw decided. "The other Clans need to be warned about Bluefur and her rogues, and no doubt they'll be expecting us as a no-show thanks to the fire, anyway."

Whitestorm sighed. "It's inviting trouble if the Clans think Tigerstar is weak," he pointed out.

"It's inviting more if we don't go at all," Tinyclaw countered.

"WindClan is still hostile," Whitestorm reported. "Their scent markers are stronger than ever."

"The fact that Sandstorm, Cloudpaw, and I fought and won a fight on their territory is the likely explanation," Tinrclaw sighed. "And then there's RiverClan – who knows what they might ask in return for sheltering us?" He could envision Leopardfur casually demanding Sunningrocks, as if ThunderClan didn't already need every pawstep of territory to hunt right now.

"It's sure to be exciting," Whitestorm breathed. His tone stated he wished it would be anything but. "At least ShadowClan is weakened by sickness. A small mercy."

Tinyclaw nodded, feeling guilty. ShadowClan's suffering was terrible, but it meant that they were too busy to focus energy on attacking ThunderClan right now. "The news about Bluefur might work in our favor," he added. "It might inspire the other Clans to focus on their own borders for a while, rather than attacking each other."

"True," Whitestorm agreed. "You're right – even without Tigerstar, we cannot miss this Gathering. We need this opportunity to buy time to recover." His sandy yellow eyes narrowed at Tinyclaw. "You're becoming very good at inter-Clan politics, Tinyclaw."

"Is that a good thing?" Tinyclaw wondered.

"Of course," the old warrior stated. "It's an essential skill for a leader."

Tinyclaw frowned, but he didn't ask whether that was a good thing – because he knew the answer, and he knew what it meant. Tigerstar's flat out refusal to go to the Gathering despite being able to… it meant that Tinyclaw was going to have to step up more than ever.

* * *

The Clan took a paltry meal before beginning to form up for the Gathering party. Tinyclaw's own tiny shrew barely filled his belly – the entire Clan was running half-empty. The forest prey was beginning to return, but ThunderClan would have to take a hit in terms of hunger for some time. If they overhunted, and too quickly, the prey would never come back.

Tinyclaw felt all eyes on him as he stood upon the Highrock. No one outright stated that he shouldn't be there (again) but it was clear that he was beginning to make a habit of breaking proper protocol. _It's not my fault,_ Tinyclaw lamented. He took a deep breath and announced, "Tigerstar will not be attending this Gathering."

Shocked meows followed as eyes widened and tails bristled with alarm. Tinyclaw wondered if Tigerstar could hear any of this, now that the barrier of lichen over his den was gone. If he could… what did he think? How much could the Clan realize about their leader's state of mind now? How many doubts were confirmed? They had stood behind him in the RiverClan camp but now it was more than clear that something was up, and Tigerstar's weakness left them vulnerable and afraid.

"Does this mean we're not going?" Cinderpelt wondered from within the crowd.

"No," Tinyclaw called, and voices stilled. "ThunderClan will go to Fourtrees tonight. The other Clans must know that we are strong despite the fire." There were mews of agreement, though some cats still kneaded their paws worriedly at attending a Gathering without their leader. "We cannot betray any weakness – we must remind them we are strong. That we are ThunderClan!"

There were cheers at his words. "ThunderClan! ThunderClan!" some called – mostly apprentices, who had little idea what going to a Gathering without your Clan leader meant. Still, his Clanamtes straightened their backs, and some began washing their ash-stained fur.

"I will take Mousefur, Dustpelt, Sandstorm, Whitestorm, Ashpaw, and Cloudpaw," Tinyclaw called.

"Will those that remain be enough to defend us?" Brindleface wondered.

"Bluefur will know there's a Gathering," Oakheart stated. His eyes were hard as he spoke his former mate's name, something he didn't often do. "She may attempt to attack."

"I know you will guard the camp well, then, Oakheart," Tinyclaw decided. He met Oakheart's eyes evenly, and for a moment Tinyclaw feared some sort of protest – but then Oakheart nodded his dappled tabby head. It was a duty he would take on with his life.

"You know if we go with too few cats, others will see it as weak," Mousefur added. "That fire was noticed by every Clan – it's not just Bluefur we've got to worry about."

 _Hopefully we won't be the only ones worrying about Bluefur after tonight,_ Tinyclaw thought. "Are we agreed, then? Those that remain will guard the camp. Oakheart will ensure every cat's safety."

Worries were slowly melting away, and Tinyclaw saw some cats nodding. He hid a sigh of relief as he meowed, "Then it's time for us to be off," before leaping down the Highrock to join the others.

His Gathering party was waiting impatiently by the entrance of the camp, paws kneading the earth and whiskers twitching. Cloudpaw was among them, her eyes large and bright. This would be her first Gathering, and Tinyclaw had waited for this moment since he had brought her here. Though it would be nothing like his first Gathering – racing after strong, powerful warriors through the forest on the way to Fourtrees. The cats surrounding her were smoke stained and starving, but Cloudpaw didn't seem to care.

"Longtail," he called. The striped warrior paused, frowning. He wasn't chosen for the Gathering party. Tinyclaw told him: "You will be a senior warrior tonight. Work together with Oakheart and keep the Clan safe. I know you'll do well."

Longtail's eyes glittered with surprise at the praise. "Thank you," he breathed. "I'll do my best."

Tinyclaw turned to the others. "Let's go," he declared finally, and he led the way out into the forest.

* * *

The ash was sticky underpaw as they raced through the quiet forest, even quieter now that the trees had no leaves to rustle. Beneath the dark earth there was the scent of hope – green shoots soon to come through the ash and soot and return the forest to its former glory. Soon, but not soon enough.

He glanced back. Cloudpaw was keeping up well, a white streak beside Whitestorm in the gloom. Sandstorm was charging ahead, looking to keep pace with him. Tinyclaw let her – there was no use in trying to outrun Sandstorm.

"You spoke well," she panted. "On the Highrock, I mean. The Clan needed to hear that."

"Thanks," Tinyclaw huffed.

They paused, clambering up a slope. "I'm sorry if what I said hurt you," Sandstorm meowed. "About Tigerstar being weak. Everything is going well, considering…"

"Considering I'm deputy?"

Sandstorm sighed. "Considering it's all been burnt to the ground," she stated firmly. "Don't listen to everything the others say. You're doing an amazing job despite everything the world seems to be throwing at us."

Tinyclaw frowned. "Do you think StarClan is punishing us?" he wondered. "With all the deaths and the fire, I mean."

Sandstorm blinked at him, puzzled. "No," she decided. "Sometimes bad things just happen, and sometimes… a lot of bad things happen at once. Eventually there's good to balance it out."

Tinyclaw blinked gratefully at her. "Thanks," he meowed. "Sandstorm, that means a lot, and -"

"Hey," Mousefur cut in, "have you thought about what you're going to tell the Clans?"

Tinyclaw opened his jaws to reply, but closed them to leap a fallen tree. His paw caught on one of its branches, causing him to tumble to the earth. He pushed himself onto all fours as soon as he could, paw throbbing. The others had gone on ahead, but Sandstorm lingered.

"Are you all right?" she wondered.

"Of course," Tinyclaw mewed back. "My mistake."

She kept pace with him as they trotted, catching up to the Clan as they gathered at the hill overlooking Fourtrees. There were other Clans there already, cats mingling and chatting in the full moon's light. There was barely a cloud in the sky.

Tinyclaw's paw was still throbbing as he stopped to catch his breath and figure out exactly what he was going to say. It was likely the words wouldn't sound as good as they did inside his head. There were bound to be so many questions, especially about Bluefur. His Clanmates looked at him impatiently, and Tinyclaw pushed himself out of his own head.

He raised his tail, giving the signal that Tigerstar had given so many times, and ThunderClan streamed into the Gathering.


	32. Chapter 30

**Welp! Here's the end! Again, I'm sorry for the poor quality of this one – I've had a lot going on in my life during the writing and it was all very draining. I've been charting out the last two books in order to avoid some of the problems that cropped up within these earlier entries and boy does nearly every change made pay off haha.**

 **I can't say just how long it'll be between this and the next – I'm returning to work after a long break and I need to find out where writing will fit best into my schedule. So far, it's Fridays. As always, I like to have a decent-sized buffer of content before I post so it might be some time. I** _ **do**_ **intend on finishing this series (it's very up in the air whether or not I'll venture into the other arcs) so it** _ **will**_ **happen.**

 **Anyway, thanks as always for reading! More to come soon.**

 **Twilight**

* * *

 **Chapter 30**

 _The air was heavy with_ the scent of RiverClan and WindClan in Fourtrees. Tinyclaw didn't see any ShadowClan cats. The events of the fire had almost washed away his memories of Whitethroat and Littlecloud, and Bluefur's murder of Runningwind and Thornpaw. Whitethroat's broken body on the Thunderpath flashed through his mind briefly. Were ShadowClan still sick? Was that why they weren't here yet?

 _It feels like I've been sucked into my own world,_ Tinyclaw thought despairingly. _It was like everything else didn't exist for a while._

The sooner he got the chance to warn the other Clans about Bluefur, the better. Surely reporting the deaths of Runningwind and Thornpaw would stir some concern, and RiverClan was already somewhat aware that Bluefur was trouble, though they didn't know why. Tinyclaw couldn't afford to let anxiety keep him from saying what was necessary.

"Tinyclaw!" Onewhisker bounded towards him, whiskers twitching. Tinyclaw was shocked to see a WindClan cat happy to see him – the last time he'd seen one was when he sent Mudclaw sneering away from a fight on his own territory. Yet Onewhisker had always been friendly to Tinyclaw ever since Tinyclaw had helped bring WindClan home.

"Long time no see," Tinyclaw offered, giving the brown warrior a smile. Warily, he offered, "You oughtn't let Mudclaw see you talking to me; truce or no truce he wouldn't be happy."

"Mudclaw takes pride in defending his territory," Onewhisker stated. "Sometimes I think he thinks himself deputy or something." Onewhisker's paws kneaded the ground with discomfort.

"That's fine," Tinyclaw assured him, "but that's no excuse to turn Tigerstar away from Highstones."

"You were sheltering Brokentail," Onewhisker pointed out, frowning.

"Brokentail was _dead_ long before then," Tinyclaw muttered. He tried to keep his neck fur from rising at the old excuse. "And you know as well as I do that turning away a leader or a medicine cat from Highstones is just. Not right."

Onewhisker grumbled. "I know," he breathed.

"It's all right," Tinyclaw decided, feeling badly for this. He hadn't meant to grill Onewhisker. _My temper is getting away from me._ "It's not like you can control what your Clan does. It _is_ good to see you, though. How have you been?"

"Fine," Onewhisker reported. He seemed pleased to talk about something else. "We saw the smoke from the fire – I was mostly wondering how _you_ were doing, you know, after that. The sky was almost black! It seemed like it was snowing, almost, but it was ash." His eyes were wide. "It was scary, and we weren't even in the thick of it. I know what it's like to be driven from home."

"We're doing better now that we're back in our camp," Tinyclaw assured him. "Rebuilding is going to take some time but we're managing – and it won't be long until the forest recovers, too." He was grateful that this part of the forest hadn't been affected by the flames. What would the Clans think if Fourtrees had burned?

"I'm glad," Onewhisker sighed. "You know, it's almost as if we never left now. Morningflower's kit is almost an apprentice. I can't wait for his first Gathering."

"It's Cloudpaw's first Gathering," Tinyclaw pointed out, nodding to his niece. "My niece."

"A kittypet?" Onewhisker's eyes widened. "Wow."

"She's doing well," Tinyclaw purred, "though she did have a brief period of difficulty adjusting to Clan life. I couldn't be more proud of her." He wondered if Onewhisker knew that Cloudpaw was the reason he'd been on WindClan territory in the first place.

"That's great, Tinyclaw!" Onewhisker purred back. "You know, I'm really proud of Whitepaw, too – she's my first apprentice; _so_ close to becoming a warrior. You think she and Cloudpaw would get along like we do?"

"Who knows?" Tinyclaw chuckled.

"We've been seeing much of you lately, Tinyclaw."

Onewhisker hastily dipped his head, and Tinyclaw did the same as Tallstar approached. The lean black-and-white tom regarded Tinyclaw with a speculative look in his amber eyes. "Just because you once led us home doesn't give you the liberty to use our territory as your own."

"So I've been warned," Tinyclaw meowed carefully. "Though I wouldn't have trespassed had I any other option. I had to put the needs of my Clan and my Clanmates first." Keeping the resentment out of his voice was hard, when he recalled how Tigerstar had been treated. It was difficult to look on Tallstar with the same amount of respect as he had before.

Tallstar's eyes glittered. "Having traveled with you, I am not surprised. Your heart is that of a warrior's." He glanced around the clearing and added levelly, "I'm not surprised that Tigerstar chose you as his new deputy – though I seemed to be one of the few, when it happened. Some doubted that a cat as young as you, with your stature, could carry the responsibility. I think they've learned differently."

Tinyclaw blinked at the old warrior, confused but happy for the strange praise. He glanced at Onewhisker, but the brown tabby was nodding along. "That's… I appreciate hearing that, Tallstar," Tinyclaw offered.

Tallstar only blinked back. "Where is Tigerstar?" he wondered idly. "I do not see him."

"He's not feeling well enough to travel," Tinyclaw reported calmly.

"Was he injured in the fire?" Tallstar's concern sounded like worry for an old friend rather than ambitious plotting.

"No," Tinyclaw replied, "but he breathed in quite a lot of smoke. It's nothing he won't recover from."

"I see," Tallstar mused. "Speaking would be difficult, then. Understandable. Well, it will be interesting hearing ThunderClan news from you. I look forward -"

Tallstar was cut off as the fresh scent of ShadowClan filtered into the clearing. All heads turned to see three ShadowClan cats racing down the slope, stopping in the center of the clearing to pant and regain their breath. One of them was Runningnose, ShadowClan's medicine cat.

The surrounding cats backed away preemptively, all aware of ShadowClan's disease by now. Runningnose and his companions caught their breath, and the medicine cat reported confidently: "It's all right – ShadowClan is cured. The rest of the Clan will be arriving shortly."

Tinyclaw frowned. There was something… off about the ShadowClan scent. It wasn't sickness, but it was something… _familiar._ He couldn't place it. But they were cured? They certainly didn't seem as haggard as the last time the Clans had seen them. _Thank StarClan for Brackenfur…_

"Why is Nightstar so late?" Tallstar wondered from beside Tinyclaw.

"Nightstar is dead," Runningnose reported frankly, as if he were talking about a dry mouse.

Murmurs of shock ran through the cats in the clearing. The ShadowClan cats seemed more than unaffected. Tinyclaw's eyes widened. Had the disease been that horrible, to take all of Nightstar's lives? Great StarClan!

"And Cinderfur?" Whitestorm wondered. "Is your deputy dead, too?"

"Cinderfur was the first to die," Runningnose reported.

The Clans clamored again. Both leader and deputy, gone? Unheard of! Tinyclaw reeled. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose his Clan's entire governing party at once, especially considering that he was one of them. How was ShadowClan functioning now? And more importantly…

"Who leads you, then?" Crookedstar asked over the clamor. The big cat was with his Clan, draped in moonlight and shadows.

"You'll see soon enough," Runningnose promised.

That seemed to be all Runningnose was going to say. Now the Gathering cats were abuzz with curiosity, but Tinyclaw felt his stomach lurch. Something about this just… didn't feel right. He could almost scent Redtail somewhere.

"Excuse me," Tinyclaw offered to Tallstar and Onewhisker. "I need to speak to Runningnose."

Tallstar and Onewhisker nodded, and Tinyclaw flicked his tail at the ShadowClan medicine cat. The patchy tom looked relieved to be pulled away from questioning cats – whoever ShadowClan's new leader was, they seemed to be wanting an entrance. Tinyclaw tried not to concern himself with it as he led Runningnose to a more private place in the clearing. The medicine cat needed to know.

"Yellowfang is dead," he reported. Yellowfang had been his mentor before her exile. They had been close, undoubtedly. Tinyclaw wished he didn't have to bear this news.

Runningnose's eyes darkened. "Oh, StarClan… I had hoped… how?"

"The fire," Tinyclaw replied.

Runningnose sniffled, and he nodded in understanding. "Of course," he breathed. "Thank you, Tinyclaw."

Tinyclaw touched his nose to Runningnose's forehead before turning back to the Clans. It was clear they were growing impatient – the moonlight only lasted so long, after all. There was only so much time for the Gathering, and each Clan still had to say their piece.

"The moon will set before we can even begin," fretted a RiverClan cat.

"If ShadowClan's new leader didn't want to be late they should have been here," Mousefur grumbled impatiently. "There's no need to keep up waiting."

Tinyclaw knew Mousefur had a short temper, but this time there was another reason for her impatience. Bluefur was on the loose and the other Clans needed to know. ShadowClan was wasting moonlight.

Finally, a flash of white fur near the Great Rock told that Tallstar was done waiting. Tinyclaw swallowed as Tallstar called the Clans to gather, Crookedstar joining him. Tinyclaw had to be up there, for the first time. The fur in his ears pounded. Sandstorm brushed past him.

"You'll do well," she promised.

Tinyclaw smiled gratefully at her, licking her ear before heading towards the rock himself. He was halfway through the crowd before he was stopped dead in his tracks by some cat yowling: "She's here!"

Redtail's scent overwhelmed Tinyclaw as he sat up on his haunches to see over the other cats. He could almost feel the spirit's fur bristling against his own. The crowd parted to let ShadowClan's new leader through, but it wasn't until the moonlight turned her fur to silver that Tinyclaw realized with horror just why ShadowClan's scent had made his stomach twist.

ShadowClan's new leader was Bluefur.


End file.
